



















































































. 






. 





' 

















































- 































DELSARTE POSE 














, and 

Accomplishments 

AT HOME AND ABROAD. 


Art, Society 


A Treasury of Artistic Homes, Social Life 

and Culture. 


EDITED BY 

R. BARRY BLACKBURN. 




> » » 

* , > 


,W. B. CONKEY COMPANY, PUBLISHERS, 

CHICAGO, ILL. 

1895 . 







I g 4 ~ 


Copyright, 1895, 

BY 

ROBT. 0. LAW. 


All Rights Reserved. 













INTRODUCTION. 


By the happy selection of “Art, Society and Accomplishments” 
for a text we have been enabled to cover a much wider range than has 
hitherto been attempted in a work of this nature. This has resulted 
in a departure from the track so well and ably beaten by our prede¬ 
cessors, the articles on Homes and their Artistic Decorations, the 
Delsarte Theory, Amatetir Photography and the suggestions on Cos¬ 
tumes for Fancy Balls being but four new themes picked hap-hazard 
from the index. Aside from these we have gathered from sources, 
the authority of which cannot be questioned, a rich assortment of 
bright ideas on those matters relating to the home with which every 
lady should be familiar. 

The just appreciation of the artistic in our homes is becoming 
yearly more extended ; an eager and gratifying desire is evinced by 
the lady of every house to keep “in touch with the times’’ in relation 
to interior decorations and proper social formulas, and the hints 
thrown out on these matters alone should make this book an invalu¬ 
able acquisition alike to the bookcase of the cottage as the library of 
the more pretentious establishment. Sufficient space has been de¬ 
voted to Art as applied to our dwellings to enable even the tyro, after 
a little study, to exhibit that nicety of taste which invariably leaves a 
good impression on the observer. 

The first ambition of every woman in our land is to render her 
home attractive to her family. The next is to excel as a hostess 
among her friends. Our American husbands are generally so wrapt 
up in their business that they gladly throw on the good lady herself 
the full responsibility of social entertainments ; and even those en¬ 
dowed with the liveliest temperament and the happiest knack in such 

3 




4 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


things confess at times that they are at a loss what next to suggest when 
they find the interest lagging. Armed beforehand with our volume 
however, the fear of being caught in this unpleasant predicament is at 
once dispelled. The directions it contains on Parlor Theatricals, 
Games and Magic, Charades, TableauxVivant, etc., will enable her 
with a little pre-arrangement to avoid the possibility of failure, and 
probably at a critical moment to turn the tide, so that her little party, 
which in spite of her efforts threatened to fall rather flat, may prove 
a brilliant success to which she can look back with pleasure. 

Correct illustrations always assist us in forming a better idea on 
any subject, and in this repect we have secured the best that could 
be obtained. 

In conclusion we would simply say that the book will be found 
literally bristling, with points on any topic touched upon, and in turn¬ 
ing it broadcast to our readers we feel confident that its contents will 
come to them in the nature of a pleasant surprise. 


LIST OF CONTRIBUTORS. 


Homes, and their Artistic Decoration . . 

Art of Expression (Delsarte). 

Acting Charades and Parlor Theatricals 

Popular Recitations. 

Speeches . 

The Art of Painting on China. 

The Art of Flower Painting. 

Costumes for Fancy Balls Described . . . 

Parlor Games. 

Parlor Magic. 

Phrenology. 

Fencing. 

Etiquette of Entertaining. 

Table Decorations for Dinner Table, etc 

How to Give a Dinner Party. 

How to Give a Luncheon. 

How to Fold Napkins. 

Hints on Good Manners. 

Toasts and Sentiments. 


by Miss Cora L. Marceau. 

by C. E. Wadsworth Griffith. 

by E. Von Behren. 

by J. De Sanchez. 

by L. W. Edgeware. 

by H. R. Robertson. 

by Mrs. Wm. Duffield. 

by Miss Camp. 

by D. L. Estey. 

by Prof. Morrison. 

by Prof. C. Wood. 

by Capt. Chapman. 

by Miss De Launay. 

by Miss De Launay. 

by R. Barry Blackburn. 

by R. Barry Blackburn. 

by J. G. Corpi. 

by R. Barry Blackburn. 

by Gustav Fischer. 























/ 


LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 


Delsarte Pose Frontispiece. . ... i 
Residence of Mr. Potter Palmer, 

Chicago . io 

The Flood Residence, Menlo Park, 

Cal. ii 

Carved Chair. 12 

Vanderbilt Residence, 5th Ave. , 

New York. 13 

Cathedral Door.... 13 

Screen. 14 

Residence of Late Mr. Conrad 

Seipp, Chicago. 15 

Hall Interior (Boston Home) .. 16 

Cupid. 16 

Royal Worcester Vase. 16 

Sachet Bags. 17 

Library Interior. 18 

Corner Arrangement. 18 

Hall Interior (Cincinnati Home) 20 

Tapestry Weaving. 20 

Drawn Work. 21 

Dining Room Interior (Chicago 

Home). 22 

FireScreen (Japanese). 22 

Silver Room, Potsdam. 23 

Louis Quinze Bedroom. 24 

Bottle Knots. 25 

Window Basket. 25 

Library Book Cases. 26 

Library Interior. 26 

Melon Head Rest. 27 

Specimen of Initial Work. 28 

Flooring. 29 

Expression. 34 

Gestures. 35 

Miss Fanny Davenport as “ La 

Tosca”. 39 

Miss Julia Marlowe as “ Parth- 

enia”. 54 

Mr. Thos. W. Keene as Marc An- •» 

tony. T . 78 

Mr. Chauncey M. Depew. 126 

Floral Piece. 146 

The Crocus. 15 2 

The Poppy. 135 

The Rose.•. i 54 

Woman’s Building, World’s Fair.. 156 


Baby Head. 157 

The Last Quadrille. 158 

Spanish Girl. 162 

Duchess of Brionne. 162 

Countess of Argyle. 166 

Phrenology. 250 

Fencing: Correct Attitude, First 

Position. 267 

Second Position. 268 

On Guard. 268 

Howto Hold Foil. 269 

The Lunge. 269 

Quarte. 272 

Diagram Showing Lines of Defense 272 

Thrust in Tierce. 273 

Time over Arm. 274 

Time in Octave. 277 

Resting Point on Lunge, Point To¬ 
ward Shoulder. 278 

Thrust in Quarte. 288 

Table Set for Twelve Persons. . 317 
Center Bowl Table Decoration.... 317 

China Shell Vase. 318 

Nautilus Stand. 318 

Rustic Fern Stand. 319 

Rustic Glass Basket. 319 

Cactus Vase. 319 

Fairy Lamp with Flower. 320 

Fairy Lamp. 320 

Tinted Flower Pot. 320 

Nautilus Shell. 320 

Bowl for Roses. 320 

Hanging Vase. 320 

Tinted Glass Vase. 320 

Bohemian Glass Vase. 321 

Plain Glass. 321 

Finger Bowl and Specimen Tubes. 321 

Specimen Tubes. 321 

Tripod Fairy Lamps. 322 

Folding Napkins, Cinderella Slip¬ 
per. 323 

Folding Napkins, Calais Douvres . 323 

Folding Napkins, The Fan. 324 

Folding Napkins, The Cockscomb.. 324 
Folding Napkins, The Palm Leaf . 325 

Folding Napkins, The Sachet. 325 

Artistic Specimens Silverware.... 326 


Mrs. Potter Palmer, Pres. Board Lady Managers of World’s Fair, Chicago.. 156 

(V) 













































































CONTENTS. 


\ 


Homes, and their Artistic Decoration. n 


Converting Old Fur¬ 
niture. 12 

/Wood Carving. 14 

Screens. 14 

Mantel Decorations.. 15 
Photographs. 16 


Arranging Fans. 17 

Khediva’s Boudoir ... 17 
Tapestry Weaving.... 20 

Cushions. 20 

Silk and Satin Pillows 21 
Baby Baskets. 21 


Japanese Screens. 22 

Arranging Boudoir... 23 

Flower Boxes. 25 

Bottle Knots. 26 

Book Covers. 27 

Initial Letters. 28 


\rt of Expression (Delsarte). 36 


Correct Position of Body. 36 

Correct Position of Hands. 36 


Correct Gestures. 36 

Correct Breathing. 36 


Subjects for Expressive Posing . 37 

Physical Drills. 37 j Delsarte Walking.... 38 | Vocal Drills. 38 

Acting Charades and Parlor Theatricals. 39 

Words to choose from. 42 

Skeleton Plots. 43 


How to Arrange the Stage. 39 

Stage Manager. 40 

How to Make up for Charades. . 41 


Ordinary Charades . 46 

Attic, 2d Scene. 48 

Dramatic, 3d Scene. 50 

Mute or Dumb Charades. 51 

Scene 2d. “Tom”. 53 

Scene 3d, “ Phantom”. 53 

Historical and Poetical Charades . 54 

The Word,“ Gallantry,” Scene 1st 54 | Scene 2d. 55 

Shakespearian Charade . 57 


Dramatic (the word). 46 

Dram, 1st Scene. 46 


The Word, “ Phantom”. 51 

Act 1st, “Fan”. 51 


The Word, “ Courtship,” Act 1st, 
“Court”. 57 


Act 2d, “ Ship ”. 62 

Act 3d, “ Courtship ”. 64 


List of Acting Proverbs... 67 

“All is not Gold that Glitters”. 68 


Tableaux Vivant 


The Stage. 
The Lights 


73 The Curtain. 75 

74 Grouping. 76 


Subjects for Living Pic¬ 
tures. 


72 


77 


Popular Recitations 


Pride of Battery B. .. 78 

The Bells. 79 

Death of Little Jo... 82 
Antony and Cleopatra 85 
ArtemusWard on Wo¬ 
man’s Rights. 87 

The Raven. 88 

Marc Antony’s Ad¬ 
dress to the Romans 92 
Marco Bozzaris. 94 


Othello’s Apology.... 97 
Speech for Decoration 

Day. 99 

Schneider’s Tomatoes. 100 
Barbara Freitchie .... 101 
Extract from Sermon 
on Death of Abraham 

Lincoln.103 

Buck Fanshaw’s Fun¬ 
eral .ioq 

(Vi) 


7S 

Her Letter.m 

Widow Machree.113, 

Killing of Julius Caesar 

(Localized).115 

That Hired Girl.119 

The Difficulty of Rhym¬ 
ing.120 

The Battle of Limer¬ 
ick .121 

Mary’s Little Lamb ..124 














































































CONTENTS. 


vii 


Speeches. 

A Public Officer on 
Retiring is Pre¬ 
sented with a Souve¬ 
nir .126 

Reply.127 

The Ladies.127 

Another Reply.127 

Presentation of Plate 
to Public Officer.... 128 
Reply.128 


Presentation to a 
Teacher by Young 

Lady Pupils.129 

Reply.129 

A Bachelor.130 

Reply.130 

The Host...130 

Reply.130 

Distinguished Guest.. 131 
Reply.131 


. 126 

Wedding Day Anni¬ 


versary ..132 

Reply.132 

Crystal Wedding. ... .132 

Reply.«.133 

Silver Wedding.133 

Golden Wedding.134 

Congratulating Candi¬ 
date.134 

Reply.135 


Art of Painting on China. 

The Bridge or Rest... 
Overglaze Painting. .. 
Gilding. 

Underglaze Painting. 


Material.136 

Colors...137 

Brushes.137 


Mediums.138 

Glass Mullers’ Slab 
Palette.138 


136 

r 39 

139 

141 

142 


Art of Flower Painting 


Drawing Single Flowers. 147 

Materials. 148 

The Process of Painting. 149 


. 146 

The Yellow Crocus.. 152 

The Poppy. 153 

The Rose. 153 


Woman at the World’s Fair, Chicago 
Costumes for Fancy Balls Described.... 


For Fair Women.... 158 
Historical Dresses.. . 159 
Elderly Ladies.159 


Gentlemen’s Fancy 


Costumes..159 

Calico Balls.160 


. 156 

.15 8 

Hair Dressing.161 

Powdering.162 

Historical Characters. 162 


Fancy Dresses Described 


Abigail. 165 

Abruzzi Peasant. . .. 165 
Academical Dress.. 165 
Adrienne Lecouvreur 165 

Africa. 165 

Algerian Costume.. 165 
Amazon’s Queen... 166 

America. 166 

Anne Boleyn. 166 

Argyle, Countess of. 166 

Astrology. 167 

Austrian Peasant... 167 

Autumn. 167 

Bacchante. 167 

Bee, Queen. 167 

Bee. 168 

Bridesmaids. 168 

Bo-Peep.* 168 

Buttercup. 168 

Butterfly. 169 

Camille. 169 

Cards (pack of).... 169 
Catherine of Medi¬ 
ci. 169 

Charlotte Corday.. . 169 


Chess, Living. 170 

Chocolatiere. 170 

Circassian. 170 

Classic. 170 

Colleen Bawn. 170 

Dancing Girl. 170 

Desdemona. 171 

Directoire. 171 

Domino. 171 

Dowager of Brionne. 172 

Dutch. 172 

Egyptian. 173 

Elizabeth, Queen of 

England. 173 

Lady Bacon. 173 

Empire. 173 

Esther, Queen. 174 

Evangeline. 174 

Flora McDonald.... 174 

Flora Mclvor. 174 

Flower Girl. 175 

Gainesborough. 175 

Galatea. 173 

Gipsy. 175 

Grace Darling. 176 


. i6 5 

G r a n d m o ther, My. 


Great. 177 

Greek (Ancient) .... 177 

Harvest.;. 177 

Haidee. 177 

Hero. 177 

Hornet. 178 

Huntress. 178 

Incroyable. 178 

Italian Peasant. 179 

Joan of Arc ... 179 

Juliet (Romeo and 

Juliet). 180 

Lawn Tennis. 180 

Lurline. 180 

Macbeth, Lady. 181 

Magpie. 181 

Marie Antoinette.... 181 
Mary, Mary, quite 

contrary. 182 

May Queen. 182 

Mexican. 182 

Midnight. 183 

Mist. 183 

Monte Carlo. 183 















































































































CONTENTS. 


vi 11 


Fancy Dresses Described— Continued 


Music. 183 

Nun. 183 

Oranges and Lemons 184 

Painting. 184 

Photography. 184 

Pompadour Madame 185 

Yachts. 


Press... 

Red Riding Hood.. . 

Rouge et Noir. 

Russian Skater. 

Scotch Costume. 

Seasons, The. 


185 

18s 

186 

186 

187 
i8 7 


Spanish Lady. 

Tambourine Girl 

Turkish Lady. 

Watteau Costumes. .. 

White Dress. 

Witch. 


l6 5 

187 

187 

188 
188 

188 

189 

189 


Boys’ and Girls’ Fancy Costumes 


Butterfly. 189 

Beauty. 189 

Boy Blue. 189 

Clown .. 190 

Cavalier. 190 

Cherry, Ripe. 190 


Dutch Fisher Boy ... 190 


Figaro. 190 

Greek Boy. 190 

Greek Girl. 190 

Gainesborough. 190 

Goblin.190 


.. 189 

Jockey.190 

Jack Horner. 190 

Morning and Night. 191 

Monk. 191 

Page. 191 

Paul Pry. 191 


Parlor Games 

Stool of Repentance. 192 

Cross Questions.193 

Quotations.193 

Secret that Travels.. 194 


The Initial Letter.... 194 


Magic Music.195 

Cupid.195 

The Trade.196 


192 

I Love My Love.197 

The Acrostic Sale.. .. 197 


Intellectual Games.... 

“Bout” Rimes.198 

Acrostics.199 

Rhapsodies.200 

Consequences.200 


Anagrams.201 

The Narrative.201 

History of Jones’ Fam¬ 
ily ..202 


Catch Games and Trick Games 


The Chair.204 

The Diviner.205 

The Deaf Man.205 

Scissors Crossed.206 

Tombolo.206 

The Magic Wand. . .. 207 

The Assertion.207 

The Hat.208 

Forfeits.208 

Adjectives.209 

Crambo.210 


Definitions.211 

How do You Like it ? .213 
What is My Thought 

Like ?.214 

Proverbs.215 

SimultaneousProverbs 217 

Mesmerism.217 

Illustrated Quotations. 220 

Wriggles.221 

Advice.221 

Game of Parodies.... 222 


. 198 

Marriages and Di¬ 


vorces .202 

The Torn Letter.203 

Geographical Game ..204 

. 204 

Shadow Portraits.222 

Character Guessing. .. 222 
Personal Conundrums. 223 

Fly Feather.223 

Shadows.223 

Jack’s Alive.224 

Bean Bags:.224 

The Donkey’s Tail. ..225 


Threading a Needle.. 225 
How to Pick up a Coin 226' 
A Baremuth Feast.. . .226 


Parlor Magic. 

Forcing a Card. 227 

Guessing Card, Thought of. 228 

To Tell a Card by Smelling it.. 229 
To Tell Cards without Seeing 

Them. 230 

To Tell a Card thought of. 231 

To Change Card by Command.. 232 

Twin Card Trick. 233 

Magic Tea Caddies. 233 

The Vanishing Card. 234 

Telling Cards by Weight. 234 

To Produce a Mouse from Pack 

of Cards. 235 

Sending Card through Table .. . 235 


. 227 

To Knock all the Cards from 

Hand Except Chosen One. 236 

Another Clever Card Trick. 236 

To Tell Name of Card Thought of.. 236 
To Tell all the Cards by their 

Weights. 237 

Queens Dig for Diamonds. 238 

Mysterious Disappearance of Knave 

of Spades. 239 

Sleight-of-Hand Tricks.. 239 

Cheap Way of Being Generous.... 240 
Famous English Mountebank 

Trick. 240 

Bringing Ribbon from the Mouth. 240 






































































































CONTENTS. 


ix 


Parlor Magic— Continued. 

Catching Money from the Air.. 241 
Firing Loaded Pistol at the Hand 242 

Curious Watch Trick. 242 

The Flying Quarter. 243 

Plumes for the Ladies. 243 

Borrowed Quarter and Worsted 

Ball. 244 

Ink and Fish Trick. 244 


Phrenology.. 

Faculties of Mind.. 251 | Sentiments 


. 227 

Flying Money. 245 

The Twenty Cents Trick. 245 

Mysterious Bag. 246 

To Make Dime Disappear. 246 

Cannon Ball and Hat. 247 

Evanescent Money. 248 

The Winged Dime. 248 

The Aerial Coin. 248 


. 250 

257 | Reflective Faculties. 264 


Fencing ... 265 

The Position. 267 


Etiquette 

Friendship.. 283 

Hospitality . 284 

Conversation. 284 

Visiting. 285 

Visits of Friendship. 285 
Receiving Morning 

Calls. 286 

Attire. 287 


Visits of Condolence. 287 

Invitation. 288 

Half Hour before Din¬ 
ner . 288 

Going to Dinner .... 289 
Leaving Dinner Table 290 
After Dinner Invita¬ 
tion . 290 


283 

Ball or Evening Party 

Etiquette. 291 

Arrival of Guests . .. 291 

Refreshments. 292 

Departure. 292 

Letters of Introduc¬ 
tion . 293 

Evenings at Home .. 294 


Wedding Breakfasts. 

Wedding Breakfast Viands. 295 | Wines 


294 

295 


How to Give a Dinner Party 


Great Diners .... 
Variety of Food.. 
Elaborate Dinners 
Elegant Dinners. . 
Dinner Parties. .. 



Number of Guests. .. 301 

.. 299 

Temperature of Room 302 

.. 299 

Warming of Dining 

.. 299 

Room.. 302 

.. 301 

Dining in HotWeather 303 


Lighting. 

Tables of Different 

Sizes . 

Allowance of Room.. 


296 

3°3 

3 ° 4 
3 ° 4 


Rules for Dinner Giving. 

Rule No. 1.305 Rule No. 3 

Rule No. 2.305 Rule No. 4 


305 Rule No. 5 ... 
305 Dinner Parties 


3°5 

3°6 

3°6 


How to Wait on Table 


Management of Dishes309 
Old Fashioned Dinner 
Parties.309 


How to Lay a Cloth.. 310 


The Table.311 

The Cloth.311 


308 

The Napkins.312 

The Wines.312 

To Lay the Dessert.. . 312 

-. 3i3 

3i5 


How to Give a Luncheon. 

Picnics. 314 I Table Napkins 


Table Decorations 

Arrangement of Flow¬ 
ers.3*9 

Inexpensive Decora¬ 
tions .3 2 ° 

Winter Decoration 


Foliage Decorations.. 321 

Specimen Tubes.321 

Dessert Centers.322 

Strewing.322 


3 l8 

Decoration for each 

Season, Spring.322 

Summer Decoration.. .323 
Autumn Decoration ..323 

3 2 3 














































































X 


CONTENTS. 


Table Napkins .. . . 






Cinderella’s Slipper.. .. 

• •323 

Calais Douvres. 

.324 

The Palm Leaf. 

...325 

Calais Douvres. 

• •323 

Cockscomb. 

.324 

The Sachet. 

•••325 

General Suggestions as 

to Society Manners and Social Forms. 

•3 2 7 

Good Talkers. 

..327 

Listener. 

•327 

Privacy. 

...328 

Vulgarisms. 

..327 

Accomplishments. 

.327 

Engagements . 


Introductions. 

• •327 

Politeness. 

.328 

Personalities. 

...328 

Grace. 

• •327 

Good Name of Women... 

.328 

Taking Leave. 

. ..328 

Maxims of George 

Washington . 



.328 

Toasts and Sentiments 




• 33 1 

Amatory. 

• •331 

Scotch. 

•335 

Naval. 

...340 

Bacchanalian. 

.•332 

Democratic. 

•336 

Sentimental. 

...341 

Comic. 

••334 

Literary. 

•338 

Religious. 

...341 

English. 

••335 

Loyal. 

•339 

Sporting. 

...342 

Irish. 

••335 

Military. 

• 340 

Letters of Social Form. 

•• .344 

Flowers About the Home. 



•348 

Beauty, How to Acquire and Preserve It . 



•3% 


■ % 












































Flowers About the Home 


Cultivation. 349 

The Esmeralda. 350 

The Mad. Hute.350 

Princess Beatrice. 350 

Souvenir de Wooten. 350 

Luciole. 351 

Madame Schwaller. 351 

Ferns. 352 

Care of Plants. 356 

Propagation by Seeds. 359 

Tuberous Begonias. 361 


348 


The American Beauty. 349 

The Madame Levette. 350 

The Madame Welche. 350 

The Gloire de Margotin. 350 

The Meteor. 350 

The Papa Goutin. 351 

The Rose Bed. 351 

The Conservatory. 355 

Window Gardening. 357 

Propagation by Cutting. 360 

Orchids. 361 


Beauty, How to Acquire and How to Preserve It . 364 


Turkish Bath. 366 

Creams. 367 

Blackheads, to Remove. 367 

Smoothing the Skin.. 368 

Sunken Cheeks. 368 j 

Removing Superfluous Hair. 369 

Care of the Hands. 373 

Care of the Wrists. 374 

Care of the Hair. 374 1 

Singeing and Brushing. 375 ! 

The Scalp. 376 

Poise of the Head. 377 

The Shoulder. 378 

A Beautiful Bosom. 379 | 

The Voice. 380 

The Diet. 380 ! 


Care of the Skin. 366 

Pimples. 367 

Dandruff. 367 

Milk Baths. 368 

Care of the Eyebrows. 369 

Care of the Teeth. 370 

Tooth Powder. 371 

Care of the Nails.-.. . 372 

Cultivation of Touch. 374 

Trimming the Hair. 375 

Hair Tonic. 376 

Developing the Neck. 377 

Developing the Arm. 378 

Developing Hollow Cheeks. 378 

A Free, Strong Limb. 379 

Walking. 379 

A Few Don’ts. 381 





































































































mfpm | 


\\\\v 


The Flood Residence, Menlo Park, Cal. 


HOMES AND THEIR ARTISTIC DECORATION. 


“Where thy treasure is, there will thy heart be also,” is so beauti¬ 
fully true, so true that one glance into any room will tell just what the 
inmates think of home. Of course it is true that every contrivance 
for comfort or ornament costs something, but one woman can do fifty 
times the amount with the same sum another squanders, relying upon 
a “decorator” to make her home a spot of real beauty. You know 
yourself how you appreciate what you have accomplished by your own 
handicraft, and how much more deep is your joyful satisfaction to 
have your husband or father say, “There is a little woman in my 
home who can do anything /” and all the while he only means you 
waste nothing, convert every scrap of everything into something to 
gladden the eye, and make the home-spot the shrine of all your love. 
The clever woman who embroiders, (?) and just here I am reminded of a 
model housewife in Omaha who opened her eyes in surprise when 

asked if she did all her linen decorating herself. “Certainly, v she an¬ 
il 


































12 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


swered, “no two people take stitches exactly alike, and every piece of 
linen in our house bears our monogram, and the conventionalized 
flower, representing those of my bridal bouquet. I am a German, you 
know,” she explained with a bright smile, “and consider my linens be¬ 
fore everything else.” 

A woman who takes such pride in one direction will feel the same 
in all. But there is a long array of women who do not like the tedious 
work of embroidery; she may prefer, oh, a thousand times to climb a 
step-ladder and arrange every drape and portiere in her house, to do 
as an ingenious little woman in St. Louis did, tint her own ceilings in 
the most indescribably delicate and exquisite designs of mottled and 
indistinct arabesques overlaid with long straggling vines of dull yellow 
with their vari-hued background of soft blues, grays, dull brown and 
pinkish purple. A woman can take a mouthful, yes she is likely to put 
them in her mouth, fancy tacks, and with her little son’s tool box will 
convert some of that ponderous old carved furniture her mother gave 
her, and which is too magnificent to be destroyed, but because of its 
bulls, is also too expensive a luxury in these days of high rents ; well 
she will cut and saw until that huge old four-poster she has looks 
something like this. 


A glance will tell how it came about; the fancy carving and deep¬ 
est relief is used as the front piece. There is enough here for the 

sides, the top of the head board is used as 
the back, with the fruit-piece to extend 
above the lid; if her carved wood is exhausted 
the lid may be of heavy wood into which, for 
a nominal sum she has had a beveled mirror 
put, strong hinges and lock finish 
the mechanism complete. She has 
a handsome solid mahogany chest, 
where no “moth or rust can cor¬ 
rupt, nor thieves break in and steal.” 
Of course, if she feels that her 
work is crowned with success she 
will not mind the expense of 
having the whole lined, or line it herself with a veneer of sandal or 
other scented wood. She will then pack away her unseasonable 
garments, or her precious laces, or her linens, just as she may prefer. 

But what shall she do with those immense posts upon which the 
head-board was hooked ? They are topped with exquisite cut work, and 











































































































































































' ■ 






' 

































THE VANDERBILT RESIDENCE ON FIFTH AVENUE, NEW YORK CITY 



















































































































HOMES AND THEIR ARTISTIC DECORATION 


x 3- 


are so solid as to be precious. Did it ever occur to you that if you 

want an ordinary square room con¬ 
verted into something on the Greek 
or oriental order, these very posts 
will serve as pillars, from 


as 

which rich draperies may de¬ 
pend, and in whose luxurious: 
shade an ottoman, rich in its 
wealth of cushion, will do the 
rest ? 

An old Louis Quinze ward¬ 
robe has been converted into 
the most beautiful piece im¬ 
aginable. There is not much 
but the skeleton and beauti¬ 
ful carving left, the back was 
relined with one single piece 
of flawless French plate mir¬ 
ror, the sides were removed 
and thick French plate glass 
substituted for the mahog 
any, the front panels were re¬ 
moved, leaving only the 
shield-shaped carvings in a 
wide band about two feet 
wide across the middle. 
Here, too, is the glass; on the 
inside, where once the scent¬ 
ed, stiff brocades hung sacred 
from dust and light, glass 
shelves are now placed, and 
^ou have the handsomest 
cabinet imaginable. The 
whole woodwork has been 
enameled in ivory-white just 
touched with gold about 
the carving. The wardrobe 
was bought at a sacrifice sale 



Copy of a Cathedral door. 

* 

for $125 ; improved as it is, it sold for $ 45 °> an< ^ Y 011 a ^ ^ le 

reminiscences desirable, and a modern convenience withal. 












































































































































































































































































































H 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 



This question of woodwork is a new one for women, but with 
care much can be accomplished with cumbrous old furniture. 

Wood carving is not so difficult as might be supposed, that is, 
carving pretty enough for the home, even though it should not come 
quite up to a standard of high art. Simple methods oftentimes pro¬ 
duce beautiful work. Have the design scratched on the surface of 
the wood—for beginners soft woods are preferable, then cut it more 
deeply, tint it in smoothly laid water color, after the whole has been 
glazed. The design should be conventional, and like a braiding 
pattern, “without beginning or end.” Vary the colors as dictated by 
the taste, then when the whole is dry have it varnished and the whole 
will resemble the beautiful and expensive marquetry or inlaid work. 
Music racks, jardinieres, wood boxes, footstools and countless odd 

pieces can be made thus. Here 
is a handsome frieze, the 
pattern would be beautiful if 
reproduced anywhere. 

One passes naturally from 
all wood pieces to those 
combined with it in graceful 
effect. There are screens. 
And where is there a wider 
field for taste than in the 
matter of screens? There are 
screens tall, screens small, 
and screens that are not 
screens at all, for they 
are mere films of 
gauze, fastened 
in artistic frames, 
and are merecon- 
ceits for ex¬ 
quisite hand¬ 
work. One par¬ 
ticularly beautiful is of spangled gauze, the transparent ground 
is shot with minute threads of silver, copper, gold and dull red 
tinsel, the whole is tinted, and this tinting requires care and 
skill; at the top it is almost white, and gradually grows into 
a faint sky blue, and deepening down, as it were to the very 
horizon a deep, violet hue, from which tall irregular marguerites 
























































' 


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< 


































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RESIDENCE 


































HOMES AND THEIR ARTISTIC DECORATION. 


15 


bloom all atilt in a breeze, and tangled as to leaves. The cloudy 
effect is intensified in the idea of distance for butterflies of tinted 
gauze are fastened among the flowers, or soaring away toward the top. 
The effect is in imitation of a broken Japanese design, but in repre¬ 
senting nothing homely it is more in keeping with the American taste. 
The frame of the screen is plain, pure white, highly enameled and un¬ 
adorned by even so much as a drape or knot of ribbon. 

Low screens, composed of two parts, with shelves running along 
for flower pots, are pretty to place before fireplaces. They may be 
in any color to harmonize with their surroundings, and boasting of no 
intrinsic beauty they may be decked at will with a scarf or huge knots 
of heavy satin ribbon. A tall screen with little irregular shelves is a 
pretty adjunct for a sitting-room. These shelves are pretty and con¬ 
venient for rare and odd little bits of pottery, curios or china. Noth¬ 
ing, unless it is a cushioned window seat, or bench at the right angle 
of the room, so breaks up the prim, much-to-be-avoided effect as a 
handsome screen. 

Somehow screens remind one of a mantel, when one begins to 
talk of using them as receptacles for bric-a-brac. Is there anything 
which can add more to an apartment than a handsome mantel? For 
example, whether or not the decoration is carried to the ceiling de¬ 
pends upon the subject. Some of the most beautiful, over-mantel 
decorations reaching only part way to the picture rail, others that 
reached entirely to the ceiling, the rail being removed. If the dec¬ 
oration is to be a design painted on canvas, cupids with garlands are 
a good subject, or Japanese screen and frieze designs. These are 
always decorative in character, and if designs showing birds and 
flowers are selected, the effect is sure to be striking and pretty. Tall 
mirrors are an old gold finish, but there is something eminently aristo¬ 
cratic about them still. Cabinet mantels in hard wood, with all sorts 
of little shelves and nooks are dear to many women’s hearts, for tiny 
statuettes in pure marble or alabaster, show so well in these positions. 
The mantel, in the study of an artist, was quaint and odd, it was high 
and very narrow, perfectly plain and painted a sort of greenish gray. 
There was no open fireplace, the space was filled with tiling of the 
same color alternating with white, before a wall covered with coarse 
brown canvas ; a fish net was hung loosely and with true Bohemian 
carelessness, long trailing tangles of seaweed depending at intervals. 
The only decoration was a small marine in water color, with a plain silver 
frame,and a miniature anchor in silver fastened with a bit of historic rope. 


16 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 




What shall we who are not sc severely artistic place upon our 

mantels and cabinets, for example? The 
photograph of a younger or absent member 
of the family—just one member is in good 
form, and here it is just as well to 
mention a pretty idea for a frame. 
If the picture is of a child or young 
woman, have a smooth band 
of delicate blue velvet about 
three inches wide, firmly 
fastened to stiff cardboard, 
paint the whole in patches 
of fleecy white clouds interspersed 
with flying petals 
blown from the tiny gold 
trumpet which the 
little Cupid in the 

upper right hand corner is blowing over all. 

The effect is wonderfully delicate and dainty, 
especially if the leaves are crumpled leaves 
of a la France rose or torn violets. The 
richest photo holders on exhibition are those 
of the Louis Ouinze style ; they are made 
to hold one picture, or hinged so as to hold 
two; the oval aperture for the picture is out¬ 
lined with a smooth band of gilt, then over 
the surface of the most exquisite pink, real 
Frenchy Cupids disport with garlands. 

The frame is irregular as to outline, and 
finished with thick gold leaves which are 
matted in an irregular vine, or twisted 
about scrolls in artistic irregularity; a 
frame for a cabinet size photo is 
worth about $17.50. 

Of course, you have nothing in 
pairs. A Royal Worcester vase is 
always desirable, and one or two 
little bisques and a few odd pieces 
of imported or historic wares. 

Care should be exercised against crowding, thus cheapening the whole. 













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HALL INTERIOR YIEW-(BOSTON HOME). 





































HOMES AND THEIR ARTISTIC DECORATION. 


*7 

Hiins are an addition to a room if sparingly used, and placed in 
artistic effects. \ he following will illustrate some of the places where 
the) look well. A pretty arrangement is to place two ordinary “open 
and shut fans together, those which shade from a pale to a deep hue 
preferred. Then, when the fastening is 
removed, let the splints extend outward, 
and for twenty cents you have a wonder¬ 
ful halo-like effect upon your walls. 


Palm leaves, plain or stained, are ornamental, with their long 
crinkled leaves curled by dyeing. They are an effective background 
for a picture on an easel. Sachets are other odd pieces which can be 
literally “strung” around. No rule can govern them, for with their 
sweet, odoriferous messages they are welcome almost anywhere. Let 
a room be well supplied with shelves, no two on the same line. These 
afford such opportunities for draperies, for bric-a-brac and books. 

It may be of interest to many to know how the wife of the Khe¬ 
dive of Egypt lives, especially to those who imagine that the homes 
of the royal Egyptians are just as they were in the time of Uarda. 
The Khediva, unlike most women of her nation, has been allowed to 
travel, and although she can appear before no men but her relatives, 
she has her home as lovely as the most fastidious American could 
wish. We quote the Art Intercha?ige for the description of a few of 
her apartments, and they might well serve for any woman of pronounced 








18 ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 

brunette type. The boudoir, which is also her sleeping room 
and salon, is in deep blue, the walls tufted with deep blue satin, and 
in the center of each tuft a white marguerite is fixed with its golden 
eye. The wall ceiling is of the same blue satin, laid in plaits, and cul¬ 
minating in the center in a large marguerite with a golden center. 



The curtains are of rich Pompeiian red ground,with a brocaded figure in 
deep blue exactly matching the walls, the stuff being of that changing 
opaline tint which takes a hundred fascinating hues as the light falls 
on it. The curtains, affixed to a heavy gold cornice, fall in lustrous 
folds to the ground. The under curtains are of soft cream net, 
heavily embroidered. The carpet is a Pompeiian red velvet, with 































































































































LIBRARY—(ARTISTIC INTERIOR VIEW 





























































































































































































































































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HOMES AND THEIR ARTISTIC DECORATION. 


*9 


deep blue figure thrown on its surface. The side of the room in 
which the mantel is placed is all a plate glass mirror, in a narrow gold 
frame, on which are traced delicate scroll designs. In the center of 
the mirror is an elaborate mantel with Corinthian columns. In the 
face surface of the lintel posts are lapis-lazuli designs, which inclose 
ivory miniatures of court beauties of the time of Louis XIV. The 
furniture is of satin wood, Louis XIV pattern, the circular tables inlaid 
with precious marbles, and chairs upholstered in the same stuff of which 
the curtains are made. The sofas are small, and the woodwork 
finished with a gold band, and figures in a contrasting wood inlaid on 
the plain surface. The boudoir adjoining the salon is in blue and 
rose, the walls covered with the tufted satin as in the salon, but the 
carpet a warm rose velvet. On the eastern wall of her bedroom is a 
piece of Turkish embroidery, six by eight feet, a yellow satin ground, 
on which is worked dull blue and pink raised patterns of conventional 
flowers and leaves. Opposite this Turkish bit is a Syrian prayer 
carpet or mat, a dull blue satin ground, half covered with pale gray, 
shading to pink designs, the edge of the mat being decorated with a 
motto from the Koran. The tables have each a little mirror for its 
top, the legs and body being twisted gold. The floor is painted white, 
and in the center is a rich cashmere rug, a pale cream ground with a 
border of dull blue. Small yellow and blue rugs are put before the 
armoire, and by the bedside. The other furniture, like the chairs, 
consists simply of gold frames in which to place mirrors, which form 
the front and two sides. 

The bathroom, which is noticed most, we must explain. It is 
rather a small room with the tub on a raised wooden platform of 
lattice work about three inches from the floor proper, the best sort of 
floor for a sweating bath. The tub is, in this case, of silver, but of 
course, this is not a necessity. All the wall space is hung with heavy 
white Turkish toweling, with a dado of the same, the stuff put on in full 
plaits; the ceiling is also in flat plaits, with a center representing a 
white crysanthemum with a dark brown heart, the only hint of color 
in the room, and quite an artistic touch. The curtains are of the same, 
falling in heavy folds, and held back with heavily corded tassels. A 
large mirror set in silver, occupies half the wall space of a raised plat¬ 
form on which the tub is set. In the center of the room is a little 
silver-topped table, on which are brushes and other articles of the 
toilet, all set in silver; and opposite the bath tub is a divan with down 
mattresses, covered with the white toweling. The floor of this room 


2,0 ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 

is of white, hard wood, extremely polished, but uncovered. All this 
upholstery can be washed and rehung without difficulty, and insures a 
clean, pure, fresh room, prettier and more sensible than if more elab¬ 
orately finished. 

******** 

Tapestry weaving is a new employment for women of artistic 
tastes. There are portable frames for this purpose, on which Aubusson 
tapestries may be woven by any one who has taken a few lessons in 
the work. The design is traced over the warp, and the wool is woven 
with needles, threaded with many colored wool. The darning stitch 
is the one most employed for the woof of Gobelin tapestry on a high 
warp, in which case the foundation threads run vertically. The low 
warp with threads horizontal to the ground is required for weaving 
Aubusson and Beauvais tapestries. 

Now we are back to the needle again, and a myriad of beautiful 
articles demand attention. First, let us consider the embroidery 
theme; take cushions, for example, one in the beautiful laid work 
in Japanese gold. This is done in mail cloth, fifty inches wide, and 
worth four dollars a yard. Then silk canvas is used for the same 
purpose ; the stitches are determined by the pattern woven in the 

canvas, and are wrought in 
Japan gold and rope silk. 
The Morris darning is 
pretty work for cushions 
and pillows. It is beauti¬ 
ful for cushion covers when 
darned on dainty linen, 
the flowers outlined in fine 
Japan gold, the whole 
cover cut in scollops and 
laced to the cushion over 

great favor just now. 
They are made of India 
cotton Cretonne, and Ben¬ 
gal cotton; the patterns are 
not unlike gingham hand¬ 
kerchiefs with their bright 
borders. The whole is finished all around with a deep full frill. 


puffs of bright silk. 

Cotton pillows are in 








HALL INTERIOR—(CINCINNATI) HOME. 
























HOMES AND THEIR ARTISTIC DECORATION. 2 1 

Of course, miladi will never give up her silk and satin pillows, 
filled with the lightest down and scented delicately but deliciously 
with her favorite fragrance, but these novelties brighten the whole 
room and are not so perishable, and for that reason more popular 
with men who hate those frail affairs which must not be touched. 

Roman cut-work is beautiful, and in great favor because it is on 
linen, and laundries nicely. So many things can be made of it, yet in 
nothing does it give more satisfaction than in doyley or lunch cloths. 
Drawn work has been revived to stay forever ; it affords such an 
opportunity for careful, beautiful work. 

Something new and pretty in a baby’s basket was the puffed pocket 
attached on the inside of the lid. The basket is oblong, rather than 

round, as most of them are. It was lined 
with old gold silk under dotted Swiss, 
all the accessories were tied with nar¬ 
row ribbons of the same rich shade, 
but it was the square pocket, formed 
by a shirred puff, and run with yellow 
ribbons, which was the real novelty. 

The return of French styles in 
home decoration is a happy advent, 
even to the tiny jewel case of bev¬ 
eled French glass, with tiny locks of 
gilt, and supplied with a delicate, 
Drawn Work tufted, satin cushion. One in par¬ 

ticular is like an old French cheffonier. It has a curved and carved 
front, and a tiny top of marble which lifts as a lid, the rest is crystal 
joined by narrow chased gilt bands, and cushioned in cardinal satin. 

Crochet linens, which are stiffened by glue, then gilded, make 
dainty little ornaments or receptacles for odds and ends. A slipper 
crocheted so and run in blue ribbons was a very neat curl paper holder, 
and alas, we most of us, still use curl-papers, and don’t want to litter 
one’s dressing table with them. This same work can be done on a 
much more elaborate scale, and baskets of considerable size can be 
then manufactured. 

The world of Japanese art is so varied, so without law and order, 
such a combination of form, design and color, and yet withal so 
quaintly beautiful that page upon page could be written upon its 
wonders. So marked are its characteristics that one would not have 
to have it explained to understand that it is a Japanese screen, about 









22 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


six feet high, in dull grayish black with a thick moulding frame, deeply 
carved in fantastic designs and the picture illustration in the most 
impossible figufe of inexplicable creatures. Inlaid in pearl and ivory 
suspended on a running gait in mid-air, and adorned and sur¬ 
rounded by the most gorgeous specimens of birds, gods, and flowers, 
yet what is dearer to a woman’s heart than her Japanese art pieces. 



I he dear little after-dinner coffees are of this ware, though Irish Beleek 
threatened to outrival it. Quaint little gods, useless little vases, and 
some, especially potpourris, which are useful, drapes of the filmiest 
silk, yet however thin, with its woof and warp clearly designed ; all 
these are almost necessary to the completion of an artistic home. 
But the Indian department is none the less important. What could 
be more beautiful than the carved and inlaid tables, the massive 






















































DINING-ROOM INTERIOR-(CHICAGO HOME.) 



































































































































































v- 










































































HOMES AND THEIR ARTISTIC DECORATION. 


23 


chests, the cabinets of scented wood, the draperies, conspicuous in 
their bold, majestic design ? One would and should feel justly proud 
of a real Indian piece, whether it is to sit upon, look at, or eat from, 
for in any line of the domestic necessities, real Hindoo workmanship 
is a capital investment. 

A word about the arrangement of a boudoir, especially if it is 
used as an ordinary living room, as so many ladies prefer. A few 
rules are not inapropos. Remember that while a number of articles 
are certainly necessary, they are not pleasant to behold ; a toilet set 



Silver Room at Frederickshon Castle, Potsdam. 


for example, if indeed of the finest ware, is suggestive of the bath, and 
not desirable. If you can dispense with that stupid institution, a 
washstand, do so. Have one corner of your room made into a 
stationary washstand, with two smaller triangular shelves above it, the 
second smaller than the first, and upon these the accessories of the 
small bath can be kept; two narrow curtains can hang in straight 
folds to the floor, and these conceal the whole, while it breaks up the 
painful angularity of a right-angled room. The draperies should be 
harmonious, and suited to the complexion and favorite colors of attire 
of its inhabitant, but of all things, make concealment of these 
unromantic necessities the first effort. 


















































































24 


A Louis Quinze Bedroom. 











































































































































































































































HOMES AND THEIR ARTISTIC DECORATION. 


25 


At the Chicago exposition a bedroom entirely draped and up¬ 
holstered in jute attracted much attention. The pattern was of 
flowers loosely scattered over a ground of pinkish cream. The walls 
were hung in the same, with an upper border of about sixteen inches 
in pale robin-egg blue sateen over which hung a quaint fringe of 
cat-tails, in old-rose and brown, the brown pendants hanging at the 
full depth, the old-rose about four inches shorter. These were sus¬ 
pended by cords attached to a neat border of gimp. The brass bed, 
according to the prevailing style, is composed of two single beds 
placed side by side. The spread is stretched smoothly. The drapery 
of the same jute is arranged over a crown shaped canopy at the wall 

over the head-board, and drawn away 
to either side in straight folds, tied 
with cords and tassels. The lining of 
the curtains was the same robin-egg 
sateen found in the border. The 





dressing case is the most attractive 
piece. The wood-work is entirely 
covered by jute, just the round brass 
knobs of the drawers being visible, 

The glass is oval, with the blue sateen 
laid in flat folds, radiating from it to 
the edge of a large square frame from which a crown canopy spreads 
its curtains about each side. The tiny candelabra on either side of the 
mirror are of brass, to match the knobs. A commodious Turkish 
lounge is upholstered in jute. The table and willow chairs are gilded. 

Flowers, oh, above all things surround yourselves with flowers, they 


lend an air of gentility and refinement to the plainest apartment, and 
enhance the most ornate. Blooming flowers are of course desirable; 
here is a pretty jardiniere. Have a box, cylindrical if possible, about 
the height of a low window, and two feet long. 1 ake the design to 
be engraved from some old French Marquetrie, and carry it out in 
yellows and browns on a fine walnut background. Line the box with 
enameled tin, leaving a place for draining at the bottom. Potted 





















26 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


plants must be treated each with reference to its peculiar nativity, but 
some require no especial care, and will thrive in any light, warm apart¬ 
ment. Cut flowers look better in vases of cut crystal than in any¬ 
thing else, and the pretty cornucopias are a handy utility; odd bottles 
and vases may be hung anywhere by following these directions for the 
knot. This knot is not generally known. It is one that is made 

with great facility, and 
is not only of an ex¬ 
ceedingly ornamental 
character, as a succes¬ 
sion of knots can be 
made on the same piece 
of string and used as 
braid, but is of con¬ 
siderable utility in carry¬ 
ing a bottle or vase, as 
shown in the second 
figure. If before the 
knot is pulled tight it is 
put round the neck of a 
vase or bottle, and then 
tightened, it takes a 
perfectly sure hold, and 
cannot possibly be 
pulled off. 

Painting on Mass is 

o o 

not as difficult as it 
is artistic. Glass doors, 
transoms, etc., are cer¬ 
tainly prettier painted 
than plain. A suitable 
subject for the glass 
transom would depend 
upon the room, and the lighting of the glass. If full light is transmitted 
through it, transparent oil colors would be best, and a purely ornamental 
subject. If the transom is composed of more than one pane of glass the 
subject must consist of arabesques or a geometric treatment. If one 
long light composes the glass work and no light is transmitted through 
it. why not paint one of the Art Interchange s oblong studies ? For ex¬ 
ample, the study of the alamanda vine, and yellow blossoms, or the 



LIBRARY BOOKCASES. 
























































































































































































LIBRARY INTERIOR-(NEW ORLEANS) 

















































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HOMES AND THEIR ARTISTIC DECORATION. 


2 7 


trumpet vine with its rich red bloom. An effective study for a glass 
door is a mass of foliage in soft, dull greens, a branch end covering 
the curtains, so as to leave interstices of the burlaps harmonizing 
admirably with the greens. If in a dining room, a grape-vine with 
large dull purple fruit clusters would be handsome. 

Library furnishings depend upon the number of your books, 
for of course they are given precedence over everything else. Long 
parallel lines of shelves are best; low cases extending between four 
and six feet, running around three sides, are preferable, and 
answer the purpose in most homes. The third wall is left for a 
reading lounge, and if fortunately the plan of the room is such 
that a cushioned window seat can be placed there, so much the 
better. Pretty statuettes, statues or curios are quite in keeping, 
but not little trifles of ware which would be all right in any lady’s 

boudoir. The draperies should be heavy and 
dark, as libraries are generally light, and means 
must be procured for shutting out light and 
sound if desired. The furnishings in this 
apartment are in better .taste and plain and 
handsome, as otherwise they absorb the 
attention of its occupant. It is a good 
idea to have a portrait of your hero 
or heroine there, one whose life of 
heroic patience overcame every ob¬ 
stacle and mounted through difficulty 
to success. Pictures of this character 
influence us wonderfully, and in 
this room it is fair to presume 
your moments of deepest thought 
are spent. A few ideas of book 
covers come to me now; this is 
borrowed from the Art Inter¬ 
change. 

They can be made of kid or 
chamois, celluloid, card-board, 
embroidered silk or plush, or, in 
fact, anything pretty and avail- 
Meion Head Rest. able. Hand painting is always 

an improvement, and is really prettier than embroidery, Transparent 
celluioid is very pretty as it covers without hiding the name and title 




28 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


of the work, and when brightened by a bunch of thoughtful pansies 
or any flower is pretty, but pansies are for thoughts you know, and 
very appropriate for book covers. 

Why not revive the beautiful art needle work of the time of 
Charles II of England? Never was work more gorgeously beautiful. 



Specimens of Initial Work. 

Coarse homespun linen was the material usually employed for the 
ground, and every shade of crewel, worsted, not silk, gold or purl, like 
the old work, exclusively used for decoration. Evelyn mentions a bed for 
the queen of Charles II, the embroidery of which cost $3,000, probably, 
because of this elaborate work on costly ground. This style prevailed 
through the reign of the Stuarts until the accession of George I, when 
the heavy tarlatan German patterns were imported with the new dynasty. 

Tambour work on fine cambric or muslin was practiced exten¬ 
sively in the reign of Queen Anne—Indian Chintz patterns chiefly. 
























HOMES AND THEIR ARTISTIC DECORATION. 


2 9 


The muslin was often cut and drawn, and worked in lace stitches in 
the interstices in addition to the beautiful tambour needlework. 

“With the House of Hanover a heavy kind of embroidery in gold 
and silver was introduced from Germany—a kind of stiff Anglo- 
German Louis Quatorze. Still, it was not without a certain effect of 
richness and magnificence, and was suited to the decoration of coro¬ 
nation robes, beds of state and hangings for occasions of ceremony. 
White satin was sometimes used for a groundwork, and some em¬ 



broidered dresses and waistcoats of the time of the Georges, embroid¬ 
ered in gold and colored silks, are well worthy of careful study 
and admiration.’' 

Never before was the subject of curtains so seriously considered, 
or more money and time spent upon them. Each year the lace grows 
more delicate in texture and design, and exquisite handwork is 
steadily increasing in favor, curtains of real duchess point, or of 
Russian point insertion set in white silk, or fine scrim. Lace is far 
ahead of silk for heavy tapestries, and a room hung even in cheap 
Syrian cloth is tasteful. 





























i 


THE ART OF EXPRESSION, 


DELSARTE. 

“ Chisel in hand stood a sculptor boy, 

His marble block before him ; 

His face lit up with a smile of joy, 

While an angel dream passed o’er him. 

“Sculptors of life are we as we stand, 

With our lives uncarved before us ; 

Waiting the time when at God’s command, 

Our life dream passes o’er us.” 

In this age man’s individuality is boldly asserting itself. Each 
warrior in the battle of life is setting about to forge his own “ armor 
of steel.” We are beginning to act upon the truth that every man's 
nature is but an imperfect model of a great character which his own 
personality must work out into an artistic ideal. How eagerly 
then, must we grasp every means of self culture ! How ardently 
seize upon every instrument of education that may aid us in 
annihilating what is false in our nature, while we patiently strive 
for that ideal development of which we are by nature the imperfect 
embryo. 

May the new world in the light of a new age be the great studio 
in which a higher education shall help us to produce models of broad 
and complete growth. 

Past systems of training have produced examples of great culture 
physically, mentally or morally. It is for examples of “The Three in 
One ” that the world is looking. 

Thus far physical strength and beauty have been too often asso¬ 
ciated with moral depravity ; mental power with physical decay ; even 
religious and moral culture with mental dependence or physical weak- ' 
ness. The training we need to-day is such as will develop harmoniously 

GO 


THE ART OF EXPRESSION 


3 1 

and completely our triune nature, and make men ideals—not in 
one respect, but all. 

Of various philosophies of education none so well meets this 
demand as that of the painter, sculptor, musician and poet, Francofs 
Delsarte. Himself a model of complete culture, yet without great 
natural capabilities for art-work, he was a living proof of the possi¬ 
bilities that are in reach of all. About the time, however, when he 
may be supposed to have been about to give to the needy world a 
thorough exposition of his philosophy of the art of expression, France 
and Germany rushed into that great struggle which transformed 
churches into fortresses of defence, and schools into hospitals for the 
slain. At last the storms of battle rolled away ; but the spirit of the 
artist had ascended to that world for which it had been so well pre¬ 
paring itself. He left us but fragments of an unfinished model, sug¬ 
gestions indeed, of a great work. But how often the last words of a 
dying general have directed an army to victory ! How often the 
inspiration of his last deeds have gathered the scattered forces and 
led them to glorious triumph ! So these charts, outlines and lectures 
of that noble artist have fallen into the hands of ambitious warriors, 
who, with his teachings for weapons, are waging a great war with all 
the lines of art thought. 

With no u flag of truce ” for fad or fashion and with no battle cry 
but “ Truth,” a great revolution is awakening all classes of society, 
which must result in great victories for good, thorough education. 
And then to how much we are often indebted to those who hide them¬ 
selves from public gaze ! A battle is won. The soldiers’ names are 
not published. A truth is preserved, but the unknown saviour, and per¬ 
haps even the author himself, are never known. How often the glim¬ 
mering candle-lights of truth have been kept burning, protected from 
the invading forces of the evil and the false by the gloomy walls of 
convents or monasteries ; the patient sentinels within, content to pre¬ 
serve that truth, caring not to wear a badge or carry a color. 

So while the world of culture is to-day rearing a monument of 
gratitude to Francois Delsarte, we are likely to disregard the important 
fact that to the cure Delamausne of the abbey of St. Genevieve, the 
first compiler of Delsarte’s works, we are really indebted for all we 
have. 

Art is nature idealized ; and while we speak for convenience of 
the art of music, art of painting, art of sculpturing, art of dress, art 
of embroidery, etc., there are in reality no such divisions. All art is 


3 2 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


one ; and the same principles govern the succession of musical changes 
in a sonata ; the shading of a leaf in a painting, or the carving of 
the hand of a statue. The principles of the art of the material expres¬ 
sion of the spiritual man were for the first time formulated by Del- 
sarte. Previously, artists groped vainly for laws and their relations, 
and finding them contradictory returned to their own impulses, which 
in most cases meant failure and success only to the man of superior 
genius. 

Artists, like astronomers, search the measureless expanse of 
beauty, and finding no starting point and no bounds to the celestial 
sphere of art, trusted to their own devices or inspirations. But since 
the solar system of Delsarte is discovered, we find a logical relation¬ 
ship between all the principles of expression, and in the light of great 
central truths we measure with exactness, and locate with certainty. 

Delsarte teaches us the difference between nature revealed and 
nature perfected. Cynics complain that it makes those who study it 
and practice its gymnasties, unnatural. Why unnatural ? Simply 
because it changes them, and makes them more perfect ; therefore 
different, and seemingly mechanical. If one goes to a teacher of 
Delsarte with angular features, awkward walk and irregular propor¬ 
tions, and returns with facial beauty and physical grace, he may seem 
mechanical, but who would not congratulate him on such mechanism ? 
Delsarte cultivates and disciplines the mind, making it able to detect 
the false and grasp the true. It harmonizes the moral nature, purify¬ 
ing its sentiments and qualifying its passions. It improves the body, 
making the face more like the artist’s ideal of form, and the body 
more like the sculptor’s dream. It acts upon the mind, making it 
quick to act, and correctly to judge. When we stand in the glorious 
gallery of the Louvre and see perfect models of symmetry in sculp¬ 
tured stone ; perfect form and color in those marvelous paintings of 
the master artists, we instinctively cry out : “ Oh ! where are the edu¬ 
cational artists that are able to give outlines and expressions like these 
to the faces of men ; forms and developments like these to human 
bodies ?” This is the great work of the Delsartean teacher—to culti¬ 
vate the human body, making it more strong and beautiful ; to restore 
its natural grace and develop its possibilities, thus making it the per¬ 
fect agent of the mind. 

When one sees the surging mass of humanity with its weighty 
loads of physical oppression, with its deformities and its impurities, 
he feels the great need, nay, the imperative demand, for such study 


THE ART OF EXPRESSION. 


33 


and teaching. Mr. Gladstone, realizing this, remarked : “ It should 

be taught in every school in England.” If it is needed in England, 
where physical development is at its best, America must demand it. 

A great difference between Delsartean and other physical culture is 
that it cultivates the moral and intellectual with the physical. It does 
not train for the prize ring. It does not develop the arms by a suc¬ 
cession of poundings, or the limbs by stamping, for it has long since 
been shown that most great pugilists and athletes, being abnormally 
developed, become diseased and short lived. 

We may infer that the system is based upon the fact that the soul 
feeds upon that with which it comes in contact. It is said that an am¬ 
bitious youth, seeing a fac-simile statue of Hercules, sought to acquire 
that beauty and symmetry by coming often into the presence of that 
model. He became stronger and more perfectly developed by absorbing 
the form and outlines. Our souls are like wax, bearing forever images 
of all that touch them. If our eyes, without resisting, see ugly sights, 
and our ears hear continually discordant sounds, our souls will become 
less beautiful and less in harmony with the divine. We must not 
ignore the false. We must judge it and deny or resist its power 
over us. We are more physical than we have thought. Our minds 
feed upon what the senses bring to us. The more correct these tele¬ 
graphic messages, the truer our judgments must be. 

Besides, the body and the soul are the mutual reflections of each 
other. 

The soul of man is stamped not only upon his face, but in his bones 
and muscles; in the form and outline of his body. 

So if we keep in our minds that beautiful ideai of which we are 
an imperfect beginning, we shall grow like it, and our dream of 
strength and beauty shall become our real self. 

The “Trinity of the mental, moral and vital ” in our nature is the 
basis of Delsarte’s philosophy. Understanding this we at once discover 
new colors in the painting and conceive new modulations in the sonata. 
This knowledge, too, unveils the sculptured souls in stone, giving to 
them a new voice and utterance. Upon this principle of the trinity a 
series of exercises are developed — the best ever known . These 
relieve the body from awkwardness, develop weak parts, reduce corpu¬ 
lency, and harmonize thought and action. 

But we meet many obstacles. Probably there is none greater 
than the faulty forms of the art of dress. 

This department of art has succeeded in developing itself 

3 


34 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 



out of all grace and propriety, Its requirements greatly modify, in all 
cases, and prevent altogether in some, the possibility of the correct 
development of the human figure. Since man only is made in the 
image of God, how sad that he should seek to mutilate and destroy 
himself. But the process begins with childhood. Feet that know 
not weariness are cramped into leather, so that in a few years they are 
only fit to ride. Hands that are beautifully graceful are manacled 

with tight gloves, thus be¬ 
coming larger and more 
awkward, and making 
graceful movements im¬ 
possible. Faces that 
might have been models 
for artists are smeared 
with poisonous com¬ 
pounds until the lines of 
beauty are hidden or lost. 
Forms that sculptors 
might have found an 
inspiration are tied up in 
garments, and tortured 
with steel in a manner 
really merciless. As Ed¬ 
mund Russell has said: 
“ Fancy the Venus of Milo 
with a corset on.” Truly 
grace and beauty would 
thus ridiculed indeed. 

It is really unfortunate, 
too, that society is in such 
I Mental. 2 Moral. 3 vital. a condition, according to 

the accepted idea, that, in order to preserve our state of high 
social purity we must hide from view the outlines of the human form. 
The most beautiful dress ever made is a Grecian gown, being of such 
a plan as to permit the graceful movements of the body, and at the 
same time revealing its beautiful outlines. However, owing to the un¬ 
pardonable neglect of physical culture, especially in America, modern 
dress may save the artist many a pang by concealing from his view 
the sunken chests, deformed waists and crippled feet which are the 
results most frequently of fashion’s tyranny. Will the time ever come 



THE ART OF EXPRESSION. 


35 


when those who suffer most from the inhumanity of dress will be will- 
ing- to give even a paltry sum to a worthy teacher of physical culture, 
who will teach them how to overcome the defects which they have 



been paying so much to hide? How much better so to do than to 
waste enough every season to build several gymnasiums in only hiding 
imperfections, and at the same time increasing greatly the severity of 
their physical maladies. 






3 6 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 

GENERAL SUGGESTIONS. 


i st. Study the correct position of the body. Throw the weight 
on the balls of the feet. Keep the hips well back. Throw the chest 
well up, making the waist smaller. Keep the chin slightly back, har¬ 
monizing it with the chest which it opposes. 

2d. The torso, being the power-house for the cable system of the 
body, should receive the greatest care. Lift the chest, manipulate it, 
and practice extending the arms from the chest to the sides. Breathe 
deeply, abdominally, and practice rapid and slow inhalation and ex¬ 
halation in succession. Breathe through the nose. For catarrh, run 
long distances, forcing the breath through the nostrils. Oscar Gutt- 
man says: “ Most faults of voice are the result of bad breathing.” 
Effusive, expulsive and explosive breathing represent the mental, 
moral and vital predominances. 

3d. In regard to expression by gesture, it may be observed 
briefly that position, motion, form and direction are governed by the 
tendency of the thought as suggested by the above diagrams. 
Gestures expressing the mental proceed from the head, the moral from 
the chest, the vital from the abdomen. For position, note that the 
more elevated the thought the higher the gesture, according to the 
diagram given. 

The positions of the hand are palm up, mental ; palm down, moral, 
and vertical position expressing action. Look in the direction of the 
gesture of description, and away to express aversion. Let the eye 
precede the gesture, a little above or below, according to the location 
of the gesture, above or below the shoulder line. Practice the inflec¬ 
tion of the arms, or the flow of motion as it is called, from the shoulder 
to the elbow, thence to the wrist, and lastly to the finger tips. Let the 
wrist lead in gesture, but be careful not to stiffen it or exaggerate the 
drooping of the hand. Let the hand fall with its own weight when 
lifting, letting the support be at the shoulder when the hand is lowered. 

4th. The face is supplied with muscles that have no other use 
except to aid it in the act of expression. These, along with the larger 
muscles proper of the face, are used to great advantage when under 
control. It is said of McCullough that he needed but to look his 
part. 

The soul of man approaches its fellow as eloquently through the 
glances of the eye as through the modulations of the voice. Lifting 
the eyebrows, contracting and knitting them, give the most important 


THE ART OF EXPRESSION. 


37 


expressions. In general, the power of expression is in the harmonious 
action of the body, and the modulating powers of the voice. 
Practice in “ Decomposing ” the body, that is, in relaxing the tension 
of all muscles, is most valuable in overcoming awkwardness, and in 
gaining self-control. A system of aesthetic posings much practiced in 
Italy for some time, but comparatively new in America, is a most re¬ 
fined, elevating and beneficial exercise. Credit should be given Mrs. 
Laura J. Tisdale, of the Chicago Musical College, for the first rep¬ 
resentation in Chicago, of what may be called human sculpturing. 
Her exhibitions are simply marvels of artistic skill. Perhaps the most 
practical applications of Delsarte have been made under the direction 
of Mrs. Anna Morgan, of the Chicago Conservatory, whose book on 
the subject is of the greatest value to all students of art. The fol¬ 
lowing subjects will be found valuable for expressive posing, a. The 
play scene from Hamlet, b. The curse scene from Lear. c. The 
court scene from “ The Merchant of Venice.” d. “Queen Philippa 
Pleading for Her Subjects.” e. “ The Landing of Columbus.” f. 
The Death of Virginia.” 

A series of expressive poses may be arranged very easily for two, 
from almost any of the scenes of Shakespeare’s plays. 

PHYSICAL DRILLS. 

1. Poising the body. Changing weight. 

2. Lifting the hand by the wrist and dropping it by the shoulder. 
(Right, left, both at the sides, and in front.) 

3. Swinging the hands above the shoulders. (Right and left.) 

4. Poising the hand over the head, pointing first finger down, 
hand dropping by its own weight, left hand being placed at the same 
time on the left hip. (Reverse.) 

5. Framing the face front, touching the first fingers over the right 
foot advanced. Then the hands over the head, placing fingers in the 
same way, bringing the foot back to its normal position. (Do the 
same to the right and left sides.) 

6. Swing right foot across the left, touching right toe three inches 
front, then back to right side six inches from first position. Then the 
left over right in same manner. Then swing right hand, with palm 
up, cross chest to the left, same way as before. Left hand the same. 

7. Practice bending without moving the body below the waist. 
First with hands on hips, and then on shoulders. 


38 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


8. Practice walking, bending the knee but little, placing toe down 
first ; keep weight forward. 

9. Shake the hands, overcoming stiffness. 

10. Elevate hands front horizontal, letting them fall by their 
own weight. 

11. Lift the body on the toes ; then descend gradually. 

12. Swing the arms and limbs, giving “firmness at the center and 
freedom at the extremities 


VOCAL DRILLS. 

1. [Hah-Ho], [Hah-Ho]. Aspirate the first sound and vocalize 
the second. 

2. Murdock’s great drill for securing the correct action of the 
glottis is simply “ Up, up,” “ up, up, up,” etc. 

3. Support the tone by the diaphragm. Direct the tone always 
to the front, observing, however, that the mental tone, well repre¬ 
sented by the word “ah/ the moral by “o” and the vital by “ luh,” 
must take for their sounding boards different parts of the vocal appa¬ 
ratus. The voice has quality, modulation and particular timbre, for 
its purposes of expression. Give also great attention to enunciation, 
phrasing and melody. 

4. Repeat any word, giving it as many vocal expressions as pos¬ 
sible. 

These drills are found beneficial to all. The student, however, 
must diagnose his own case, and, in the spirit of the philosophy of 
Delsarte, develop drills suited to his individual needs. If vocal and 
physical training were more generally insisted upon in our schools, 
along with the mental and spiritual training, we should produce better 
types of culture. Not sophists, fanatics, or pugilists, but examples of 
men who could reason logically, feel nobly, and who would bear the 
“ image of God/ 













































. 

















MISS FANNY DAVENPORT in “LA TOSCA.” 








ACTING CHARADES. 

YOUR GREENROOM. 

In a large house this may be either the morning or the school¬ 
room. 

If all the children are grown up, or if they take any share in the 
charades (why not ? it is capital fun for children), choose the school¬ 
room rather than any other; because, like home schoolrooms generally, 
it will probably be the most convenient, but the very worst furnished 
room in the whole house. 

For acting, when impromptu , it may be quickly converted into a 
greenroom, by fetching down a looking glass, or even two (one for the 
ladies, and one for the gentlemen); a few hair brushes; a paper of 
pins; a pot of rouge, if any one in the house will own to possessing 
one; a basin of cold water, and a few towels; a cupful of flour; a 
burnt cork ; all the old spectacles and walking sticks to be had ; while 
for costumes, bring old bonnets, old ball dresses, court uniforms ; any 
kind of ancient parasols, umbrellas, or garden hats, college caps, 
college gowns, servants’ aprons, the housemaid’s cap, if possible a 
widow’s cap—in short, any “old thing ;” and thus in ten minutes the 
schoolroom may, both in appearance and essentials, be converted into 
a veritable greenroom. 

There should always be a head to organize and lead the charades. 
If not, every one will talk at the same time, and there will be nothing 
but confusion in the greenroom, as well as in the acting. 

H ave plenty of light, yet beware of fire, in those pretty white 
dresses, lest your gay comedies become real sad tragedies. If got up 
on the spur of the moment, choose for your stage any part of the 
parlor or dining room that can be closed in by curtains or folding doors. 
There are in all houses plenty of ready-made stages. 

If there are two parlors, separated by folding doors, act in the 

one and let the audience sit in the other, so arranged that all may see 

and hear. Supposing there are no folding doors or back drawing- 

39 


4° 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


room, look about for a bow window or recess; if no bow window or 
recess, act at the upper or lower end of the room—that is to say, at 
that end which is the most convenient of the two for ingress and exit. 
In every case do the best you can for showing off the acting. 

Should you be so fortunate as to have folding doors, your stage 
is made. In that case, all that you have to do is to shut them till the 
charade begins, and arrange the furniture to suit your scene—opening 
them when all is ready. So much for the greenroom and stage, in 
impromptu charades. 

It may so happen that the actors may wish to “get up” the 
charades some time before the day of representation. In that case 
the hasty toilets of impromptu charades must be replaced by much 
more careful costumes and preparations. 

In the first place, as before, select your stage well. All depends 
on the choice of your stage. 

After choosing your stage, choose your manager. 

That is a difficulty. The oldest person among the actors will 
not always do; nor the best actor, though that is a great recom¬ 
mendation ; nor the cleverest; but it must be the most experienced , 
and what is also desirable, the best tempered, for it is indeed a trying 
post. Generally speaking, the manager is expected to please every 
one, and—ends by pleasing no one. His or her duties are as follows : 

1. To settle for each actor what character he or she is to act. 

2. To settle disputes by his or her casting vote. 

3. To arrange the stage. 

4. To collect the properties. 

5. To regulate the ingress and exit. 

6. To rouge the actors, and whiten their faces. 

7. To explain the scene aloud to all. 

.8. To give the signal for drawing back the curtain, or opening 
the doors. 

As such duties are numerous, either let the manager be assisted 
by a stage manager, or else let him or her be content to be the para¬ 
mount authority behind the scenes, and take no part whatsoever in 
the representation on the stage. 

HINTS TO THE MANAGER. 

1. For comic parts in men’s characters, rouge the tip of the nose. 

2. Tragedy requires white faces, and these may be obtained by 
common flour or violet powder. 





ACTING CHARADES. 


41 


3. To get rouge off the skin, use grease, and then pure water. 
The same will get flour or powder out of the hair much more quickly 
than by brushing it, while without the use of grease, much time will 
be wasted in washing the face, or brushing the hair or beard. 

4. A burnt cork will give any amount of moustache or whisker, 
and applied to the eyebrows of light persons, gives great expression 
to the face. 

5. Age may be easily personated. Flour the hair to make it 
look gray. Indian ink and white chalk will make wrinkles, which 
must be made round the mouth and on the forehead; while a loner 
white beard may be produced by white cotton wool drawn into shape, 
or white paper finely cut into thin strips. Spectacles give an old 
look. 

Costumes in charades never need be made a source of expense, 
as very often the very cheapest properties have the best effect on the 
stage. 

Ingenuity in turning old dresses into good stage “properties” 
should be exercised both by the manager and actors. When the 
dress is ready beforehand, you will have more time to consider and 
learn your part. 

With these preliminary remarks, let us begin by rehearsing in 
private your behavior on the stage. 

Do not hang your head in that sheepish manner as you enter, nor 
yet go into the worse extreme of being always on the broad grin, but 
enter as easily and as much in character as you can. 

Don’t look at the ceiling, but at the person you are addressing; 
raise your voice a little, but do not scream, nor hurry over your 
speeches, nor speak all at the same time; but while you are acting, 
try to feel as if you were yourself, your assumed character. Act and 
look just as you imagine the character you are personating would look 
in real life; above all, be natural. 

You must never turn your back to the audience, whilst you must 
carefully endeavor to allow all you say to be heard by them. Acting 
comes more easily to some than to others—nevertheless, by a little 
common attention, it is in every one’s power, when taking a part in a 
charade, to render it agreeable and pleasing, if not striking. 

Both in impromptu and in prepared charades, a word must be 
chosen of two, three, four, or even five syllables. The whole word can 
be acted in two ways: Thus (1) take the word “ Misrepresent-(s)- 
ation,” for example. The first syllable, Miss; second, represent; 



42 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


third, station. Each syllable may be a totally distinct scene from the 
other two, and the whole word making a fourth scene; or—(2). 
The three syllables, and whole word may be, as it were, the four 
scenes of a little story—all bearing on the word Misrepresentation, 
and being connected with each other. The first way is by far the 
easier of the two. 


LIST OF WORDS TO CHOOSE FROM. 


1 Mistake. 

(Miss-take). 

32 Sentimental... 

(Sentiment-all). 

2 Mendicant.... 

(Mend-die-cant). 

33 Statesmen .... 

(States-man). 

3 Dramatic. 

(Dram-a-“tic”). 

34 Plebrew. 

(He-brew). 

4 Knighthood... 

(Night-hood). 

35 Protest. 

(Pro- (and Con-) test). 

5 Outrage. 

(Out-rage). 

36 Mischief. 

(Miss-chief). 

6 Earwig. 

(Ear-wig). 

37 Blackguard .. . 

(Black-guard). 

7 Village. 

(Vile-age). 

38 Golden. 

(Gold-den). 

8 Rifle. 

(Rye-fell). 

39 Courtship. 

(Court-ship). 

9 Pilgrim. 

(Pill grim). 

40 Pastime. 

(“Pa’s”-time) 

10 Warlike. 

(War-like). 

41 Flirting. 

(Flirt-Inn). 

11 Independent.. 

(Inn-depend-aunt). 

42 Jewel. 

(Jew-ill). 

12 Ireland. 

(Ire-land). 

43 Banquet. 

(Ban-quit). 

13 Beauty. 

(Beau, or Bow-tye). 
(Fan-Tom). 

44 Nightmare.... 

(Knight-mare). 

(Cap-(t)-“ain”). 

14 Phantom. 

45 Captain. 

15 Bandage. 

(Band age). 

46 Marplot. 

(“Ma”-plot). 

16 Skylight. 

(Sky-light). 

47 Spinster. 

(Spin-ster). 

17 Cockade. 

(Cock-aid). 

48 Sweetheart.... 

(Sweet-heart). 

18 Magnetic. 

(Magnet-“tic”). 

49 Mistletoe. 

(Miss-sell-toe). 

19 Tyrant. 

(Tye-rant). 

50 Militant. 

(Mill-it-aunt). 

20 Faithful. 

(Faith-full). 

51 Compensate... 

(Come-pence-ate). 

21 Pencil. 

(Pen-sill window). 

52 Jubilee. 

(Jew-Billy). 

22 Pilfer. 

(Pill-fur). 

53 Holiday. 

(Holy-Dey). 

23 Neighbor. 

(“Nay,’’-bore). 

54 Champagne.. . 

(Sham-pain). 

24 Spirit. 

(Spire-right). 

55 Coward. 

(Cow-hard). 

25 Rubric. 

(Rue-brick). 

56 University ... 

(Universe-city). 

26 Season. 

(Sea-sun). 

57 Nightingale.. . 

(Knight-in-gale). 

27 Handsome.... 

(Hand-some). 

58 Maritime. 

(Mary-time). 

28 Toilet. 

(To-let). 

59 Hurricane. 

(Hurry-cane). 

29 Vestry. 

(Vest-try). 

60 Friendship.... 

(Friend-ship). 

30 Owlet. 

31 Poetic. 

(Owl-let). 

(Poet tic). 

61 Feudal .. 

(Few-(d)-all). 


Any word can be selected from this list for an ordinary charade, 
with or without more preparation than that half hour in the green¬ 
room which is always requisite for the settlement of parts, the choice 
of the plots, and arrangement of costume. 

Subjoined are skeleton plots, withoiit fixed dialogue, which will 
greatly assist in impromptu entertainments. 

Then follow two specimens of ordinary charades, with dialog2ie y 
to be learned off by heart; and mute ordinary charades, which should 
be performed in total silence. By expressive action in mute charades, 
you supply the place of language—the only language admissible in 
them being “the language of the eyes.” 


















































1 


ACTING CHARADES. 43 

SKELETON PLOTS. No. 1. MISTAKE. 

Scene I. Miss. A gentleman, the Rev. Ebenezer Brown, 

wants a lodging. He has just arrived at-. Sauntering along he 

sees a “For Rent" put up in the window. He knocks, and is shown 
in by a pert help (Martha), and is told that the “Madam” will be down 
to speak to him directly. 

Enter her “Madam,” Mrs. MacCanister (not a widow lady, but 
separated from Mr. MacCanister. owing to “incompatibility of tem¬ 
per.” She is on the wrong side of sixty, and fond of relating her 
sorrows.) 

Rev. E. Brown, much “struck” with Mrs. MacCanister, engages 
the apartments. After arranging the terms, etc., Mrs. MacCanister 
begs him to take a cup of tea whilst Martha goes to fetch h*is luggage, 
which he has left at the station. Mr. Brown and Mrs. MacCanister 
sit down to tea. In the course of the conversation, Mrs. MacC., 
believing that Mr. B. knows her sad story, alludes pathetically to her 
“lone position.” Mr. Brown, still more fascinated, proposes to her, 
addressing her as “Dear Miss" The indignant Mrs. MacC., believing 
Mr. Brown to be an impudent impostor, shrieks for Martha, who enters 
with the luggage. Mr. Brown tries to explain, again beginning “Dear 
Miss,” on which Mrs. MacC. rushes out of the room, followed by 
Martha. \Curtain fallsi] 

Scene II. Take. Scene. A fancy fair, at which the young 
and lovely Mrs. Fitzrose holds a stall. 

Two fashionable-looking men, whom Mrs. Fitzrose thinks belongs 
to the “400,” but who in reality belong to the swell mob, while pur¬ 
chasing several articles, contrive to engage Mrs. Fitzrose in conver¬ 
sation. While one of them talks, the other puts article after article 
into his pocket, quite unseen by Mrs. Fitzrose. 

Enter Mrs. Smith and three young children—a most respectable 
woman. She only “looks” at the things—buys nothing. 

Suddenly Mrs. Fitzrose discovers that her stall has been robbed 
—great hurry and confusion. A magnificent pair of slippers are 
missing. The crowd assemble, the “fashionable-looking” man (who 
has taken the things) offers to fetch a policeman. Suspicion falls on 
Mrs. Smith. The second “fashionable-looking” man says, he is “sorry 
to mention it,” but that he saw Mrs. Smith put the slippers into her 
pocket. Mrs. Fitzrose entreats him, with thanks, to rush after his 
friend, and hurry the policeman. Exit “fashionable-looking” man at 
one door, and enter a policeman at another, calling out “Stop thief!” 




44 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


after him. The culprits escape; poor Mrs. Smith is released, having 
been detained by the crowd, and retires with indignant virtue. Mrs. 
Fitzrose faints. 

“Miss' and “Take v have thus been acted. The third scene rep¬ 
resents the whole word. 

Scene III. Mistake. A family, residing in-, issue invita¬ 

tions for a dance, to be given on Thursday, the 14th inst. 

As they do not think they have asked gentlemen enough, they 
ask a friend to invite one or two, and give her blank invitations. [All 
this must be described by conversation , while the genteel family are sit¬ 
ting working on the evening of Thursday, the 4th inst.\ A knock is 
heard at the front door. They cannot imagine who it can be, but 
fancy it is Count Mauve, a distinguished foreigner, invited “to look 
in any evening.” “Mamma” says, “Now mind, girls, you all speak 
French!” 

Buttons announces, in a loud voice, Mr. Watson Watson (one of 
the gentlemen invited by friend), who has mistaken the day. 

He is received most politely as Count Mauve. All speak French. 
Mr. Watson Watson cannot reply—much confusion. At last the 
mutual mistake is explained. [Curtain falls .] 

This charade must of course be acted with spirit and point, as 
the great thing is to bear out the story by the acting and dialogue. 

No. II.— Dramatic. 

Scene I. Dram. A young married couple, Charles and Laura, 
on their wedding tour at Niagara. Their Lady’s Maid enters while 
they are at breakfast one morning and says that, not being very 
well, she would be much obliged to “ Master” (who has been a medi¬ 
cal man before he entered Wall street) to give her a restorative dram. 
Laura, proud of her husband’s acquirements, makes him write out a 
prescription. It is dispatched to be made up at a neighboring drug¬ 
gist’s. Whilst the couple are still at breakfast, it arrives. Kind- 
hearted Laura mixes the dram herself for the Lady’s Maid. 

The Lady’s Maid is just putting it to her lips, when the owner 
of the store arrives—almost breathless. He cannot speak, but points 
to the tumbler. Laura offers him some, when, recovering his voice, 
he says his assistant had mistaken the bottle and sent deadly poison 
instead of the restorative dram. 

Scene II. A tic. A Harvard under-graduate, during Com¬ 
memoration Week, expecting his mother and sisters to luncheon in 




ACTING CHARADES. 


45 


his room. His friend, Frederick Fearless, is helping him. It is just 
noon—the guests are to arrive at half-past twelve. 

A ring at the door. It is a Dun with his “little account.” The 
young men “beg him to leave it”—“they’ll settle it another day”— 
“ are expecting friends.” The Dun—a very civil but positive man— 
declares he wont leave without the money. 

They assure him they have neither of them a dollar in the world. 
They offer him anything to leave at once ( clock strikes quarter-past 
twelve .) 

Dun won’t leave. They try civil means—offer him cake and 
wine, which he accepts, and then still remains. Five-and-twenty min¬ 
utes past twelve comes. Frederick Fearless, after going down on his 
knees to entreat him to leave, suggests ( aside to his friend ), that if 
he will stay, he be introduced to the ladies as a friend. Enter his 
mother and three sisters with a cousin. The Dun is introduced, but 
on being addressed by the mother still mentions his “little bill.” 
Fortunately she is a little deaf. She thinks his manner a little odd, 
and becomes alarmed. Fred Fearless again tries to persuade the 
Dun to leave. 

He still declines, and takes a seat. Fred, then turning to the 
ladies, explains (aside) that the stranger is a friend of his, but subject 
to dreadful attacks of tic , which can only be cured by the immediate 
application outside the face of a twenty-dollar bill “on account of his 
tied The benevolent mother gives the bill immediately, on which 
the Dun leaves, and Frederick, with a look of intelligence to his 
sisters, who understand the case, thanks the deaf old lady for so easily 
curing a tic. (Curtain falls.) 

Scene III. Dramatic (the whole word). Manager of country 
theater eneacres a New York “Star,” who recites in his or her differ- 
ent styles, several dramatic speeches. 

This scene should, if possible, be acted by some one who is a 
good mimic, and can imitate the different peculiarities of celebrated 
actors—such as Irving, Booth, Florence, Mary Anderson, and others. 

When, however, time has been given for previous preparation, you 
can learn off either of the ordinary dialogue acting charades which follow. 

“You must all learn , and know your parts.” 

Each actor should copy his own part out in writing, as well as 
the “cues,” or words coming immediately before his part; and 
every word should be learned literally. 





46 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


Exit and entrance will, in some rooms, be a matter of difficulty, 
from the position of the stage. A simple mode of making one 
door serve for two exits, is by placing a screen in front of the 
door, and issuing or retiring from or behind the different ends of 
the screen. 

An ordinary linen-horse, placed in that manner, and covered 
over with a large cloth, makes a good impromptu screen. 

ORDINARY CHARADES, WITH EASY DIALOGUE. 

DRAMATIC.—ACT I.— Dram. 

Dramatis Personce. 

Ludovico Jones, a Clerk. 

Dr. Tourniquet. 

Mary Worthington, Servant of lodgings. 

[Ludovico Jones’ manner must be a little burlesqued) 

Scene I.— Comfortable, well-furnished sitting-room . 

Ludovico. ( Walking up and down. Te7inyson s poems in his 
hand.) How beautiful ! My blighted heart throbs, as though 
’twould burst this mortal clay. ( Striking his forehead.) Once 
more let me peruse this verse : 

“ Oh, that it were possible, 

After long grief’s pain, 

To find the arms of my true love 
Bound ’round me once aorain.” 

o 

Tennyson, I love thee. Love ! ha—ha ! What is love? Noth¬ 
ing. The world is cold and heartless ! 

Oh, beloved Incitela ! why did you jilt me? You fascinated me 
as if you had been a cobra snake, and I your victim—and then re¬ 
jected me ! Ha ! ha ! I shall go mad ! (fTears his hair.) 

Enter Mary. 

Oh, Mr. Jones, what is the matter? 

Lud. Matter !—a blighted heart’s the matter ! 

Mary. Lor! Mr. Jones! 

Lud. A crushed worm will turn, and I am that worm ! 

Mary. Hadn’t you better go to your office, Mr. Jones? It’s 
very late. 





ACTING CHARADES. 


47 


Lud. What care I for sordid gain ; my ledger is a blank, and 
all is desolation and woe. 

Mary. Mr. Jones, you’re surely ill? 

Lud. Ha !—ha ! dying ! dying of crushed love and unrequited 
affection. 

Mary. Shall I fetch the doctor ? 

Lud. Can he cure a bleeding heart, or a mind diseased ? 
Mary. A bleeding heart! I must fetch the doctor. 

[Exit Mary. 

Enter Mary and a Doctor. 

Mary. There he is, doctor. {Doctor goes to Ludovico, when die 
latter starts up and glares at the former .) 

Lud. Who are you, sir ? 

Doctor. Ah, I see,—nervous. 

Mary. Hush ! Mr. Jones, it’s the doctor. 

Doctor. Let me feel your pulse. 

Mary. What is the matter with him, Doctor ? 

Doctor. Humph. Pain in your head ? 

Lud. No. 

Doctor. Ha !—thought not. In your back ? 

Lud. No, none. 

Doctor. Oh, of course not. Whereabouts do you feel pain ? 
Lud. {In a sepulchral voiced) In my lacerated bosom ! 

Doctor. Ha! I thought so; in the chest? {Thumps his chest .) 
Does that hurt you ? 

Lud. Ha ! minion, come on ! {Attempts to knock doctor down. 
Mary. {Laying hold of himi) Please don’t, Mr. Jones. 

Lud. I won’t {aside'), especially as he doesn’t seem the least 
afraid. {Sits down again.) 

Doctor. Ah, you’re bilious. 

Lud. Is love bile ? 

Doctor. Here’s a prescription — take that. 

Mary. I’ll have it made up for him. 

Lud. It’s all in vain. 

Doctor. Good-bye, Mr. Jones. 

Lud. How much am I to take, doctor ? 

Doctor. Three or four drachms. 


[Exit Doctor. Curtain falls. 





48 ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS 

ACT II.— Attic . {Time, night.) 

Dramatis Persona 

Two Maiden Ladies. 

Burglar. 

Lady’s Maid. 

Next-door Neighbor. 

Scene. —A Bedroom. An Attic. 

Lady’s Maid, {alone, just going to bed: enters the room, and 
places bedroom candlestick on the table.) Well, I’m tired, and I must* 
say that I am very glad I’ve put those two tiresome, good old souls, 
to bed. What with Miss Susan’s tantrums, and Miss Ellen’s fidgets, 
I’m worn skin and bone. {Is just going to put her dress on a peg, 
when a tap comes oiitside on the window.) Good gracious ! who can it 
be ? This is an attic, so it can’t be any one. {trembles.) There it 
is again, {screams. ) Oh ! oh ! oh ! Help ! —{voice outside window, 
says )—Don’t be afraid, it’s me. 

Lady’s Maid. It’s you ; and whoever may you be—alarming me 
at this time of night ? 

Voice. It’s your next-door neighbor just dropped round at your 
attic-window (because I’m afraid of alarming the ladies) to say that 
there’s a man on your house—on the roof ! 

Lady’s Maid. Oh, dear ! oh, dear ! Is he a robber ? 

Voice. Of course he is: just you give the alarm ; and let me in, 
and then we’ll rouse the house, and secure him. 

Lady’s Maid. (opens window .)—Oh! dear,—come in at once ; 
by all means ! {Enter Voice, who is a tall man.) 

[Exit Lady’s Maid, screaming. 

Voice. Well, I’m off, or I shall be catched, I expect. There he 
is, I hear him a-knocking at the door ! [ Exit Man. 

{Re-enter Lady’s Maid and two old ladies, in large frilled night¬ 
caps , and huge dressing-gowns: Miss Susan carries a poker; Miss 
Ellen the tongs.) 

Miss Susan. Where is he ? 

Miss Ellen. There’s no one here. 

Lady’s Maid. I left him here, I assure you, ma’am ; and was 
never so alarmed in all my born days! (violent raps heard at street 

door.) 










ACTING CHARADES. 


49 

Lady’s Maid. It’s the robber, ma’am, I’m sure: don’t please go 
down ! 

Miss Susan. Nonsense * I’ll speak to the person, whoever it is, 
from the window. 

M iss Ellen. My dear ! remember your nightcap. 

Miss Susan. Well, I can’t help that. ( sharply.) 

Lady’s Maid. Will you put on my bonnet, ma’am ? 

Miss Ellen. Certainly do, sister. (Miss Susan puts on Lady’s 
Maid’s bonnet , much too smalt , over nightcap , and puts her head out 
of the window. Meanwhile y increased knocking heard at front door .) 

Miss Susan. Who’s there ? 

Next-door Neighbor. Me. 

Old Lady. Me, indeed ! you ought to be ashamed of yourself, 
making such a noise at my door. 

N. D. N. Why, there’s a man on your roof. 

Old Lady. I know that. 

N. D. N. Then, why, in the name of goodness, don’t you let 
me in ? 

Miss Susan. But who are you? 

N. D. N. Your next door neighbor. 

Miss Susan. But lies in the house already. 

N. D. N. No! that’s the robber; he slid off the roof, and I saw 
him come in by the attic window ! ( Great sensation ; old ladies look 

increduluously at each otheri) 

Miss Ellen. Who could it be, then that you saw? ( To Maid.) 

Miss Susan. Well! Openthedoor. ( Lady’s MaidW 
re-enters with next-door neighbor. Old ladies conceal themselves in 
window curtains , leaving only their heads visible .) 

N. D. N. Where are the ladies—I don’t see them ? 

Miss Susan. I’m here, sir. ( pokes head out.) 

Miss Ellen. We’re— en-deshabille. 

N. D. N. Well, ladies, sorry to intrude, but he came into your 
house, and he’s a burglar, and no mistake. (At this moment Bur¬ 
glar puts his head into the room.) 

B. I just look in to say good-bye to you, I’m off. (Exit quickly , 
with N. D. N. in pursuit , calling after him) —“ Stop thief!” 

Miss Susan, (coming from behind curtain.) Good gracious! 
It was the burglar himself you let in ! 

Miss Ellen. / rings bell violently .) Good gracious ! 

SJExeunt both . 


4 



50 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


Lady’s Maid. It all comes of sleeping in an attic; I must run 
off; alarm the servants, and then go into hysterics. \Curtain falls. 

ACT III.— Dramatic. 

Dramatis Persones. 

A Manager of country theater. 

Rev. Rubric Smith, citrate of parish. 

Servant. 

Scene. — Library , Rev. Rubric Smith {alone) writes— 

Yes! the want of unity among ourselves, the want of adherence 
to the firm principles of our invaluable Rubric- 

Enter Servant. 

A gentleman, sir, to see you. 

IRev. R. S. Who is he ? 

Ser. Don’t know, positively, sir ; think he’s a milintary man, sir. 
Rev. R. S. Show him up. 

A lone. 

I trust some fellow-worker in our Rubric’s cause. 

Enter Manager. 

Rev. R. S. Haven’t pleasure—know who you—are—hem! hem! 
Man. I’m a stranger, sir, at present to your village ; but I’ve 
called on you with a view to its benefit. 

Rev. R. S. (aside.) I think he may be the editor of “ High or 
No” Church Magazine ; gentlemanly looking man. 

Man. I appeal to your sympathies, knowing, sir % how strongly 
you oppose Puritanical prejudices. 

Rev. R. S. (aside.) My very words, in “ High or No.” 

Man. In short, sir, I solicit your contributions and support— 
Rev. R. S. Excuse me, but if it is for— 

Man. It’s for the legitimate line, sir. 

Rev. R. S. Legitimate line, sir. What do you mean? 

Man (producing playbill). I’ve just arrived—“ Grand Dramatic 
Fete.” (holds up playbill.) 

Rev. R. S. (aside.) What a strange mistake of mine!— (aloud.) 
Sir, I strongly disapprove of all dramatic entertainments. (Pings the 
bell To Servant.) Show this gentleman out. 

Man. Well, sir, I meant no offence. 


i 










ACTING CHARADES. 5 I 

Rev. R. S. Remember my cloth, sir ; my cloth, sir! if it had been 
a “mystery” from “The Lives of the Saints”—or— 

Man. ( again holds up playbill.) Grand dramatic entertainment 
—“ Camille.” 

Rev. R. S. Sir ( furiously ), remember my cloth. 

\_Exit Manager. Curtain falls. 

MUTE OR DUMB CHARADES. 

A “ dumb v charade ? I could take a part in that, the nervous or 
the shy are apt to exclaim ; rashly concluding that, where nothing is 
to be said, the difficulties of acting disappear. 

Practical experience shows that the absence of language in¬ 
creases rather than diminishes the strain on the imaginative faculty. 

Were it not that so little else than comic scenes or high burlesque 
can be represented in dumb charades, mute scenes might be otherwise 
styled the “culminating point” of amateurs, so much expressive action 
is required in their performance. 

The following rules for expressing different emotions in dumb 
show must be observed : 

ist. Rage must be depicted by violent stamping of the feet, 
frowns, clenched fists, eyes open to their fullest extent, fierce gestures, 
and long strides up and down the room. 

2d. Despair must produce rolling of the eyeballs, striking the 
breast, and a fixed gloomy stare. 

3d. Hope may smile and look up, while 

4th. Disdain will wave the hands scornfully, and glance at the 
despised person from top to toe. 

5th. Love must press its hand to its heart ; and if any embracing 
is necessary, it is better left for husbands and wives, or brothers and 
sisters, to act those parts that require any embrace more affectionate 
than the most distant theatrical salute. 

* 

DUMB, OR PANTOMIME CHARADE.— Phantom. 

ACT I.— Fan. 

Represent a Spanish lady walking leisurely along the stage. 

Costume.—A black, low or high, silk dress ; black lace mantilla 
placed over the head, and falling over the shoulders. If no such 




5 2 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


mantilla can be had, any black lace scarf or mantle will do as well. It 
ought, however, to be supported over a comb six inches high, an 
article not unfrequently found in old wardrobes. 

A substitute may, however, be contrived out of any old book- 
cover, which can be cut into the required high shape, inked over, or 
covered with black silk, fastened on to the top of a fancy back comb 
for the hair, as the mantilla hides its deficiencies. 

A single rose on one side is indispensable to this scene—rouge 
the actress slightly, and cork her eyes just under the lower lids, to 
give expression. 

Thus picturesquely attired, she must take in her hand the very 
handsomest fan she can get. 

The Spanish lady enters at one door slowly and gracefully, lan¬ 
guidly using her fan, and a Spanish gentleman comes in at another 
door. The Spanish gentlemans dress may be an ordinary walking 
attire, with a mackintosh or cape flung over his left shoulder; a som¬ 
brero or a Sardinian cap ; a guitar and a corked moustache may be 
added. The Spanish gentleman advances slowly forward as if about 
to pass behind the Spanish lady [the latter must be the nearest to the 
audience .] 

Spanish lady raises her eyes : their glances meet. She starts, 
he starts, and she walks on slowly, still using her fan, and looking 
back at the Spanish gentleman over her shoulder. 

When they both reach the end of the stage, they turn round, and 
walk back again, still looking tenderly, yet diffidently at each other. 

Spanish lady suddenly gives a rapid sweep with her fan, which shuts 
it up. Spanish gentleman then advances rapidly forward, appears 
enraptured, thrumming his guitar. He joins the Spanish lady, and 
their gestures must express animated dialogue, not unmixed with re¬ 
proach and anger on the part of the Spanish lady. 

The Spanish lady again opening her fan, sweeps it with a back- 
handed movement toward the Spanish gentleman. He recoilsback, 
jumping two steps backward with agility. Spanish lady walks rapidly 
up and down, beckoning to him with her fan to return. 

He takes off his sombrero, makes three low bows, and retires 
quickly from the stage. The Spanish lady remains a few minutes on 
the stage, and fans herself in an agitated manner. Enter an old 
Spanish gentleman who appears very angry with her. He seizes her 
fan, and throws it down on the stage. The Spanish lady wringing 
her hands, rushes off, and the curtain falls. 



ACTING CHARADES. 53 

The great thing in this scene is to make the fan the principal 
object, as that is the syllable Scene I is to represent. 

Scene II.— Tom. 

A good scene can be made up by an old maid and her cat “Tom.” 

i 

Scene III .—Phantom (the whole word.) 

A curtain must be arranged at the back of the stage in such a 
manner as will enable a tableau vivant to be acted in a bow-window or 
recess. Supposing no such bow-window or recess to exist, hang across 
it two window curtains, to part in the middle. 

Two persons stand aside, opposite to each other, holding a piece 
of cord attached to the inner binding of the curtains on each side 
where they are divided in the middle. This will draw these curtains 
back when required. The card must be long enough, or the curtains 
will not close properly when let down, which they must be at the be¬ 
ginning of this scene. 

Two ladies, dressed in antique hooped costumes, stand in front 
of the curtain, watching it with hands clasped, and faces full of fear 
and expectation. [Their costume may be bright-hued silk dresses 
worn over red petticoats, and steel petticoats—the skirt drawn up to 
display the petticoats. Their hair must be turned back, and floured 
or powdered.] 

A magician stands opposite the two ladies, drawing circles and 
triangles on the ground with a long wand. 

He must be dressed in long black cloak, and have white hair, 
and a long white beard, which can easily be imitated by white wad¬ 
ding, drawn out, fire-grate shavings, or white paper, cut into long thin 
strips. 

He makes passes in the air with his wand, then looking at the 
ladies, puts his finger on his lips. They appear terrified as he strikes 
the ground violently, and the curtains, suddenly drawn back, disclose 
a tableau vivant of a Highland chieftain who is lying on the ground 
at the point of death. 

Another Highlander, in a plaid and Scotch cap, with an eagle or 
a peacocks feather in it, is kneeling on the prostrate body, brandish¬ 
ing a large carving knife with an expression of diabolic fury. 

These figures must remain disclosed to view for about three 
minutes’ time ; during which interval one of the ladies, gesticulating 
wildly, falls flat on the ground in a dead swoon. 



/ 


54 ART, society and accomplishments. 

HISTORICAL AND POETICAL CHARADES. 

If well acted, “ poetical ” charades are beautiful, and are strongly 
recommended, as combining instruction with amusement, being a 
pleasant way of cultivating an intimate acquaintance with the old 
poets. 

The passages extracted are given at length, for ready reference 
by young people, whose parents object to their perusing, except 
through the medium of a family edition, the plays of Shakespeare, 

or the old poets. 

/ 


HISTORICAL DRAMA. Word—Gallantry. 

Dramatis Personce. 

Queen Elizabeth. 

Sir Walter Raleigh, then Mr. Raleigh, an Oxford under¬ 
graduate. 

Lord Oxford, in attendance on the Queen. 

Sir Henry Sidney, the same. 

Lord Leicester. 

Three Ladies in Waiting on the Queen, and several Cour¬ 
tiers. 

The Heads of Christ Church and Oriel Colleges, and several 
Undergraduates. 

The costume of Sir Walter Raleigh must be a white satin pinked 
vest, surmounted with a brown doublet, flowered and embroidered 
with pearls ; and on his head a little black feather, in a black velvet 
cap, with a large ruby and pearl drop to confine the loop in place of a 
button—a cloak thrown over his shoulder of rich velvet, ornamented 
with pearls. The dress of the courtiers may be similar to Sir Walter 
Raleigh’s, but less magnificent; while that of the Queen and her ladies 
should be high dresses of silk or velvet, made plain, with points in 
front, full sleeves stuck out and coming down to the wrists, with ruffs 
round the hands and throat; the hair turned back and confined under 
the Elizabethan headdress, and chains round the neck. The Oueen’s 
dress should have a train, and ought to be made after the prints of the 
costumes of her reign. These historical charades are nothing unless 
the dresses be well got up and prepared beforehand. 




MISS JULIA MARLOWE as “PARTHENIA.” 








































r • 

































































. 





































































ACTING CHARADES. 55 

Scene I.— In Oxford, and supposed to be in a room in Christ-church. 
Enter Lord Oxford and Sir Henry Sidney, with other Courtiers. 

Lord Oxford. The plague is dispersed so far in London, that 
the Queen keeps her Chyrsamas here, and goes not to Greenwich as 
was meant. 

Sir Henry Sidney. Her Majesty is pleased with her sojourn in 
Oxford, and is graciously pleased to say that she will walk in the 
Meadows this morning. 

Lord Oxford. Do you know what time ? shortly, I trust. 

Sir H. S. She comes at noon. 

First Court. Does your lordship know how long we shall be in 
Oxford ? 

Lord Oxford. I cannot say ; but I see Her Majesty approach- 

ing. 

Enter , the Queen, attended by Lord Leicester, her Ladies and 
Maids of Honor, accompanied by two pages bearing her tram. As 
the Queen enters, the courtiers all kneel down and bow respectfully. 

Queen Elizabeth. Rise, my good servants. ( All rise. Turns 
to Sir H. Sidney.) Go, my good Sir Henry, and bid my faithful sub¬ 
jects, the Masters of Christchurch and Oriel, enter our presence. 
[Exit Sir Henry, while the Queen seats herself on her throne , and the 
ladies and courtiers fall back at the side , Lord Leicester being on the 
Queen’s right.\ 

Enter the Head of Christchurch and the Head of Oriel, who both 
kneel down and kiss the Queen’s hand. 

The Queen. We have sent for you, that you may attend us to 
the Meadows, where we purpose to walk till dinner time. 

H ead of Ch. Ch. We are much honored, most noble lady, by 
your command. ( The Queen rises, and leaning on Lord Leicester’s 
arm, goes out of the room, followed by all her Court. Curtain falls.) 

Scene II .—Christchurch Meadows. 

Enter Walter Raleigh and other Undergraduates. 

Raleigh. I cannot efface her words from my memory. 

First Undergrad. You are crazed, friend Raleigh; think not 
Her Maiesty knows of your existence. 



56 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


Raleigh. I am not crazed. Tis not five days ago that I en¬ 
graved upon yon window this line :— 

“ Fain would I climb, but that I fear to fall-” 

Her Majesty saw it, and added to my line : 

“ If thy heart fail thee, do not climb at all.” 

Second Undergrad. And on that you build your hopes of 
court favor ! you had far better continue the fair study of philosophy 
and letters. 

First Undergrad. Or get a fellowship, as Master Bacon doth 
report well of your success, and you aspire. 

Raleigh. You may jest, but I will yet win Her Majesty’s 
favor. ^Exeunt all. 

Enter at the other side , the Queen and all her Court , as before. 

The Queen. Methought I spied collegians here between these 
trees. 

Head of Ch. Ch. An’ it please your Majesty, it were but some 
of our students. 

Lord Leicester. In waiting doubtless till your Majesty doth 
pass, for all these youngsters worship the very ground you tread on. 

Enter xuyyx. Raleigh and his companions. First and Second Under - 
graduates re-enter—the Queen not noticing them.) 

The Queen. We are tired, and would retrace our steps. How 
damp and marshy are these meadows ! 

Lord Lei. The sun will soon shine forth, and it were only to dry 
up your Majesty’s path. 

The Queen. Albeit we would return ; and here is another puddle 
to traverse, by my troth ! (She stops at supposed puddle. Raleigh 
takes his cloak off and throws it dozvn before the Queen. The Queen 
starts , smiles , colors , and walks over it.) 

The Queen. A gallant action, though I fear your mantle is 
spoiled, my friend. However, she who mars can make—your name? 

Raleigh I am your Majesty’s most devoted subject, Walter 
Raleigh, (kneels.) 

The Queen. We will not forget this courtesy; attend us home, 
and henceforth be in my service. (The procession proceeds off the 
stage and curtain falls.) 



ACTING CHARADES. 


57 


A SHAKSPERIAN CHARADE. 

Word—Courtsh if . 

ACT I— Court. Taken from Act IV., Scenes i and 2, of The 

Merchant of Venice.” 

Dramatis Personce . 

Duke of Venice. 

Antonio, Merchant of Venice. 

Bassanio, his friend , in love with Portia. 

Shylock, a few. 

Solanio } friend to Antonio. 

Gratiano, the same. 

Portia, an heiress of great quality and fortune. 

Nerissa, her confidant. Senators , etc. 

■ 

Scene. — Ducal Palace at Venice. 

Eiiter the Duke, the Senators , Antonio, Bassanio and Gratiano. 

Duke. What, is Antonio here ? 

Antonio. Ready, so please your Grace. 

Duke. Pm sorry for thee ; thou art come to answer a stony ad¬ 
versary—an inhuman wretch ; incapable of pity—void of mercy. 

Ant. I have heard your Grace has ta’en great pains to qualify 
his rig’rous course ; I do oppose my patience to his fury, and am 
armed to suffer. 

Duke. Go and call the Jew into the court. 

Sol. He’s ready at the door ; he comes, my lord. 

Enter Shylock. 

Duke. Make room, and let him stand before our face. We all 
expect a gentle answer, Jew. 

Shy. I have possessed your grace of what I purpose 
And by our holy Sabbath have I sworn 
To have the due and forfeit of my bond. 

Are you answered ? 

Bass. This is no answer, you unfeeling man, 

To excuse the current of thy cruelty. 

Shy. I am not bound to please thee with my answer. 

Bass. Do all men kill the thing they do not love ? 

Shy. Hates any man the thing he would not kill ? 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 



BasSo Every offence is not a hate at first. 

Shy. What, would thou have a serpent sting thee twice? 

Ant. I pray you, think you question with a jew. 

You may as well go and stand upon the beach, 

And bid the main flood ’bate his usual height ; 

Therefore I do beseech you, 

Make no more offers—use no farther means, 

But with all brief and plain conveniency, 

Let me have judgment, and the Jew his will. 

Bass. For thy three thousand ducats here is six. 

Shy. If every ducat in six thousand ducats, 

Were in six parts, and ev’ry part a ducat, 

I would not draw them — I would have my bond. 

Duke. How shalt thou hope for mercy, rend’ring none? 

Shy. What judgment shall I dread, doing no wrong? 

So do I answer you. 

The pound of flesh which I demand of him 
Is dearly bought, ’tis mine, and I will have it. 

Answer, shall I have it ? 

Duke. Upon my power I may dismiss this court, 

Unless Bellario, a learned Doctor, 

Whom I have sent for to determine this, 

Come here to-day. 

Sol. My lord, here stays without 
A messenger with letters from the Doctor, 

Now come from Padua. 

D uke. Bring us the letters, call the messengers. 

Bass. Good cheer, Antonio ; what, man ! courage yet. 

The J ew shall have my flesh, blood, bones and all, 

Ere thou shalt lose for me one drop of blood. 

Ant. I am a tainted wether of the flock, 

Meetest for death. The weakest kind of fruit 
Drops earliest to the ground, and so let me. 

You can not better be employed, Bassanio, 

Than to live still, and write mine epitaph. 

Enter Nerissa, dressed like a lawyer s clerk . 

Duke. Came you from Padua, from Bellario ? 

Ner. From both, my lord ; Bellario greets your grace. 





ACTING CHARADES. 


59 


Bass. Why dost thou whet thy knife so earnestly? ( The Jew 
whetting his knife on the sole of his shoe.) 

Shy. Till thou can’st rail the seal from off my bond, 

Repair thy wit, good youth : I stand here for law. 

D uke. This letter from Bellario doth commend 

t 

A young and learned doctor to our court. 

Where is he ? 

Ner. He attendeth here, hard by, 

To know your answer, whether you’ll admit him ? 

Duke. With all my heart; some three or four of you 
Go; give him courteous conduct to this place: 

Meantime the court shall hear Bellario’s letter, (reads.) 

“Your grace shall understand that at the receipt of your letter I 
am very sick ; but at the same instant that your messenger came, in 
loving visitation was with me a young doctor of Rome ; his name is 
Balthazar : I acquainted him with the cause in controversy between 
the Jew and Antonio the merchant. We turned over many books to¬ 
gether ; he is furnished with my opinion, which, bettered with his own 
learning (the greatness of which I cannot enough commend), comes 
with him, at my importunity, to fill up your grace’s request in my stead. 
I beseech you let his lack of years be no impediment to let him lack 
a reverend estimation : for I never knew so old a head on so young a 
body. I leave him to your gracious acceptance, whose trial shall 
better publish his commendation.” 

Enter Portia, dressed like a doctor of law. 

Duke. And here, I take it, is the doctor come: 

Came you from old Bellario ? 

Por. I did, my lord. 

Duke. You’re welcome ; take your place. 

Are you acquainted with this present question in the Court ? 

Por. I am informed thoroughly of the case ; 

Which is the merchant here ? and which the Jew ? 

Duke. Antonio and old Shylock, both stand forth. 

Por. Is your name Shylock? 

Shy. Shylock is my name. 

Por. Of a strange nature is the suit you follow, 

Yet in such rule, that the Venetian law 
Cannot impugn you as you do proceed, 

(To Ant.) You stand within his danger, do you not? 


6 o 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


Ant. Aye, so he says. 

Por. Do you confess the bond ? 

Ant. I do. 

Port. Then must the Jew be merciful. 

Shy. On what compulsion, must I, tell me that? 
Por. The quality of mercy is not strained • 

It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven 
Upon the place beneath. It is twice blessed,— 

It blesseth him that gives, and him that takes: 

’Tis mightiest in the mighty ; it becomes 
The throned monarch better than his crown : 

His scepter shows the force of temporal power, 

The attribute to awe and majesty, 

Wherein doth set the dread and fear of kings; 

But mercy is above this sceptered sway, 

It is enthroned in the heart of kings, 

It is an attribute of God himself ; 

And earthly pow’r doth then show likest God’s 
When mercy seasons justice. Therefore, Jew, 

Though justice be thy plea, consider this, 

That in the course of justice, none of us 
Should see salvation. We do pray for mercy ; 

And that same prayer doth teach us all to render 
The deeds of mercy. I have spoken thus much 
To mitigate the justice of thy plea ; 

Which if thou follow, this strict court of Venice 
Must needs give sentence ’gainst the merchant there. 

Shy. My deeds upon my head ! I crave the law,— 
The penalty and forfeit of my bond ! 

Por. Is he not able to discharge the money ? 

Bass. Yes, here I tender it for him in the court, 

Yea, twice the sum ; if that will not suffice, 

Wrest once the law to your authority : 

To do a great right, do a little wrong, 

And curb this cruel devil of his will. 

Por. It must not be ; there is no power in Venice 
Can alter a decree established. It cannot be. 

Shy. A Daniel come to judgment ! yea, a Daniel! 
O wise young judge, how I do honor thee ! 

Por. Be merciful ; 




ACTING CHARADES. 6l 

Take thrice thy money ; bid me tear the bond. 

Shy. By my soul I swear : I stay here on my bond. 

Ant. Most heartily I do beseech the court 
To give the judgment. 

For. Why, then, thus it is. Prepare your bosom for his knife. 
Come, merchant, have you anything to say? 

Ant. But little : I am armed and well prepared. Give me your 
hand, Bassanio. Fare you well. 

Bass. Antonio, I am married to a wife, 

Which is as dear to me as life itself; 

But life itself, my wife, and all the world, 

Are not with me esteemed above thy life ; 

I would lose all, aye, sacrifice them all 
Here to this devil, to deliver you. 

Por. Your wife would give you little thanks for that, if she were 
by, to hear you make the offer. 

Gra. I have a wife whom, I protest, I love ; I would she were in 
heaven, so she could entreat some power to change this currish Jew. 

Ner. ’Tis well you offer it behind her back, 

The wish would make else an unquiet house. 

Shy. We trifle time ; I pray thee pursue sentence. 

Por. Therefore prepare thee to cut off the flesh ; 

Shed thou no blood, nor cut thou less nor more, 

But just a pound of flesh, or 

Thou diest, and all thy goods are confiscate. 

Gra. A second Daniel! a Daniel, Jew ! 

Por. Why doth the Jew pause? take thy forfeiture. 

Shy. Give me my principal and let me go. 

Por. He hath refused it in the open court ; 

He shall have merely justice, and his bond. 

Shy. I’ll stay no longer question. 

Por. Tarry, Jew. 

The law hath yet another law on you. 

Thou hast contrived against the very life of the defendant, 

Down, therefore, and beg mercy of the duke. 

Duke. That thou may’st see the difference of our spirit, 

I pardon thee thy life before thou ask it: 

For half thy wealth, it is Antonio’s. 

Por. Art thou contented, Jew? What dost thou say ? 

Shy. I am content. 


6 2 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


Por. Clerk, draw a deed of gift. 

Shy. I pray you give me leave to go from hence ; 

I am not well ; send the deed after me, 

And I will sign it. 

Duke. Get thee gone, but do it. 

Sir, I entreat you home with me for dinner. (To Portia.) 

Por. I humbly do desire your grace’s pardon ; 

I must away this night toward Padua, 

And it is meet I presently set forth. 

Duke. I am sorry that your leisure serves you not. Antonio, 
gratify this gentleman; for in my mind, you are much bound to him. 

[Exeunt Duke and his train. Curtain falls. 

As our readers will observe, it has been necessary to shorten this 
scene from the original, so as to adapt it to a charade. The costumes 
must be dark rich velvet suits of the period. In these poetical 
charades, each actor should carefully commit his speeches to memory, 
so as to be quite perfect in their recital on the stage. They are, per¬ 
haps, the prettiest kind of charades. 

We now proceed to the second act, which we shall illustrate by 
a scene from “ The Tempest,” and it must also be much shortened 
from the original, so as not to make the charade tedious. 

ACT II.— Ship, fTaken from Act I., Scene i, of “ The Tempest.”] 

Dramatis Per son ce. 

Alonzo, King of Naples. 

Sebastian, his brother 

Antonio, a usurping Duke of Milan. 

Ferdinand, the King of Naples son. 

Gonzalo, honest old minister to King of Naples. 

Shipmaster, Boatswain, Mariners. 

Scene. — On a ship at sea. 

(A tempestuous noise of thunder must be heard.) 

Enter Shipmaster and Boatswain. 

« 

Master. Boatswain ! 

Boats. Here, master ; what cheer ? 

Master. Good : speak to the mariners : fall to ’t quickly, or we 
run ourselves aground ; bestir, bestir ! 





ACTING CHARADES. 


6 3 


Enter Mariners. 

Boats. Hey, my hearts; cheerily my hearts; there, there take 
in the topsail ; tend to th’ master’s whistle ; blow till thou canst no 
more. 

% 

Enter Alonzo, Sebastian, Antonio, Ferdinand, and Gonzalo. 

Aeon. Good boatswain, have care; where’s the master ? play 
the men. 

Boats. I pray now, keep below. 

Alonzo. Where’s the master, boatswain ? 

Boats. Did you not hear him ? You mar our labor ; keep your 
cabins ; you assist the storm. 

Gonz. Nay, good, be patient. 

Boats. When the sea is. Hence ! What care these roarers for 
the name of king. To cabin ; silence ; trouble us not. 

Gonz. Good, yet remember whom thou hast aboard. 

Boats. None that I love more than myself. You are a coun¬ 
sellor ; if you can command these elements to silence and work the 
peace of the present, we will not hand a rope more ; use your au¬ 
thority. If you cannot, give thanks you have lived so long, and make 
yourself ready in the cabin for the mischance of the hour, if it so hap. 
Cheerly, good hearts ; out of the way, I say. \Exit 

Gonz. I have great comfort from this fellow ; methinks he hath 
no drowning mark upon him; his complexion is perfect gallows. 
Now would I give a thousand furlongs of sea for an acre of barren 
land, long heath, brown furze, anything. I would fain die a dry 
death. \Exeunt . Curtain falls. 

1 > 

The shortness of Act II is necessary after the length of Act I. 
As it is quite impossible to represent a ship on a drawing-room stage, 
the scenery of Act II must necessarily be as empty a stage as pos¬ 
sible ; the nautical costume of the sailors denoting that it is meant the 
spectators should imagine a ship’s deck. The costumes must of course 
be proper to the characters, and as these charades can never be got 
up without a great deal of preparation, the dresses may be as rich and 
as handsome as possible. In Act III, music played behind the scenes 
is a great addition, and for this last scene the music from Mendels¬ 
sohn’s “ Midsummer Night’s Dream” may be easily obtained. 

While on the subject, music, when well and softly played, is a 
great assistance in all theatrical representations ; it should be judiciously 


6 4 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


introduced between the acts to distract the spectators’ attention from 
the tedium of waiting for the curtain’s being drawn up again, and its 
introduction allows a little more time for the requisite change of cos¬ 
tume in the greenroom. 


ACT III— Courtship. 

\Taken from “ A Midsummer Night’s Dream,” Act. II, Scenes 

2, 4, 5 ; Act IV., Scene 1.] 

Dramatis Pcrsoncz. 


Oberon, King of the Fairies. 

Titania, Queen of the Fairies. 

Puck, a Fairy. 

Pkaseblossom, ^ 

Cobweb, 

Moth, 

Mustard Seed. 

Bottom, a weaver , with whom , whilst under the 
influence of a charm , Titania falls in love. 

Scene i.— A wood near Athens. 


r Fairies. 


Enter Oberon at one door with his train, and the Oueen 

7 

at another with hers. 

Obe. Ill met by moonlight, proud Titania. 

Tit. What, jealous, Oberon ? Fairies, skip hence ; I have fore¬ 
sworn his company. 

Obe. Tarry, rash fairy, am I not thy lord ? 

Tit. Then I must be thy lady. 

Obe. Why should Titania cross her Oberon ? 

I do but beg a little changeling boy to be my henchman. 

Tit. Set w our heart at rest. The fairy land buys not the child 
from me. 

Obe. Give me that boy, and I will go with thee. 

Tit. Not for my fairy kingdom. Elves, away ! 

We shall chide downright if I longer stay. \^Exeunt. 

Obe. Well, go that way ; thou shalt not from this grove ‘ 

Till I torment thee for this injury. 

My gentle Puck, come hither ; thou rememberest, 

Since once I sat upon a promontory, 

And heard a mermaid on a dolphin’s back, 



ACTING CHARADES. 


65 


Uttering such dulcet and harmonious sounds, 

That the rude sea grew chdl at her song ? 

Puck. I remember. 

Obe. That very time I saw, but thou couldst not, 

Plying between the cold moon and the earth, 

Cupid all armed; a certain aim he took. 

Yet marked I where the bolt of Cupid fell : 

It fell upon a little western flower, 

Before, milk-white ; now purple with love’s wound, 

And maidens call it love-in-idleness. 

Fetch me that flower ; 

The juice of it on sleeping eyelids laid 
Will make or man or woman madly dote 
Upon the next live creature that it sees. 

Fetch me this herb, and be thou here again, 

Ere the leviathan can swim a league. 

Puck. I’ll put a girdle round the earth in forty minutes. \_Exit . 
Obe. Having once this juice, 

I’ll watch Titania when she is asleep, 

And drop the liquor of it on her eyes. 

Re-enter Puck. 

Puck. Aye, there it is. 

Obe. I pray thee give it me. 

I know a bank whereon the wild thyme blows, 

Where ox-lip and the nodding violet grows ; 

There sleeps Titania some time of the night, 

Lulled in these flowers, from dances and delight ; 

There with the juice of this I’ll streak her eyes, 

And make her full of hateful fantasies 

And look you meet me ere the first cock crow. 

Puck. Fear not, my lord, your servant shall do so. S^Exeunt. 

(The cur tarn must here be let down, music must be played, and then it 
should be again raised to display Titania lying fast asleep on a bank) 

Enter Oberon, and anoints her eyelids. 

Obe. What thou seest when thou dost wake, 

Do it for thy true love take ; 

When thou wak’st, it is thy dear ; 

Wake, when some vile thing is near. \^Exit. Curtain falls. 

5 


f 


66 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 

( The air tain again draws up to display Oberon alonei) 

Obe. I wonder if Titania be awak’d ; 

Then what it was that next came in her eye, 

Which she must dote on in extremity. 

Enter Puck. 

H ere comes my messenger; how now, mad sprite ? 

Puck. Titania with a monster is in love. 

An ass’ nowl I fixed upon his head ; 

And left sweet Pyramus translated there ; 

When in that moment (so it came to pass), 

Titania wak’d, and straightway loved an ass. 

Obe. This falls out better than I could devise. 

[Exit Oberon and Puck. Curtain falls. 

Scene II.— A Wood. Bottom, a mortal with a large ass head , 
translated by Puck. Fairies attending , the King behind. 

Tit. {to Bottom.) Come, sit thee down upon this flowery bed, 
While I thy amiable cheeks do coy, 

And stick musk-roses in thy sleek smooth head, 

And kiss thy fair large ears, my gentle joy. 

Bot. Where’s Peaseblossom ? 

Pease. Ready. 

Bot. Scratch my head, Peaseblossom ; wdiere’s Monsieur Cobweb ? 
Cob. Ready. 

Bot. Monsieur Cobweb, get your weapons in your hand, and kill 
me a red-hipt humble-bee on the top of a thistle. Where’s Monsieur 
Mustard Seed ? 

Mus. Ready ; what’s your will ? 

Bot. Nothing, good monsieur, but to help Cavallero Cobweb to 
scratch. I am such a tender ass, if my hair doth but tickle me I must 
scratch. 

Tit. Wilt hear some music, mv sweet love? 

O how I love thee, how I dote on thee. {Sleepsi) 

{Enter Puck.) 

Obe. Welcome, good Robin ; see’st thou this sweet sight? 

H er dotage now I do begin to pity. 

I will release the fairy queen. ( Waves the flower over her.) 


ACTING CHARADES. 


67 


Be as thou wert wont to be, 

See as thou were wont to see; 

Dian’s bud, o’er Cupid’s flower, 

Hath such force and blessed power. 

Now, my Titania, wake you, my sweet queen. 

Tit. My Oberon! what visions I have seen ! 

Puck. Fairy king, attend and mark, 

I do hear the -morning lark. 

Obe. Then my queen, in silence sad, 

Trip we after the night’s shade ; 

We the globe can compass soon, 

Swifter than the wandering moon. 

Tit. Come, my lord, and in our flight, 

Tell me how I came this night, 

That I sleeping here was found 

With these mortals on the ground. (Bottom lies still.) 

\Exeunt Fairies. Curtain falls. 


You must first choose a proverb ; then tack some little dramatic 
plot or circumstance to it, which will bear out the moral of the adage. 

In acting a ‘"charade,” the syllables, as we have seen, are each 
acted separately ; and the last part acts the whole word. In acting a 
proverb, the whole story must turn on the chosen proverb. 

1st. We give you a handy list of proverbs for selection, then 
you seek one suitable to any story you mean to act. Choose those 
best known and in common use, as these are the most easily made in¬ 
telligible to an audience. 

2d. Find proverbs, in the form of light dramas, all bearing 
on well-known axioms, and which will serve as specimens of “ acting 
proverbs,” when you begin to provide their plots and conversation, 
out of your own heads. Learn your parts thoroughly , and remember 
“Whatever is worth doing at all , is worth doing well.” 


List of Proverbs for Acting. 


1. When the cat’s away the mice will play. 

2. Charity begins, but should not end at 
home. 

3. There’s many a slip ’twixt the cup and 
the lip. 

4. Honesty is the best policy. 

5. Time and tide wait for no one. 

6. A friend in need is a friend indeed. 

7. A closed mouth catches no flies. 


8. Better late than never. 

9. One good turn deserves another. 

10. A stitch in time saves nine. 

11. Listeners never hear any good of them¬ 
selves. 

12. Comparisons are odious. 

13. No rose without a thorn. 

14. A bird in the hand is worth two in the 
bush. 



68 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


15. *Tis a long lane that has no turning. 

16. A rolling stone gathers no moss. 

17. Small beginnings make great ends. 

18. One fool makes many. 

19. Much coin makes care. 

20. It never rains but it pours. 

21. ’Tis no use crying over spilt milk. 

22. Do not trifle with edge tools. 

23. All is not gold that glitters. 

24. Killing two birds with one stone. 

25. A stout heart fora steep hill. 

26. Every cloud has its silver lining. 

27. Every Jack has his Jill. 

28. None but a fool sits by the fire in August. 

29. Borrow and come to sorrow. 


flies out of the window. 

36. Faint heart never won fair lady. 

37. Honor among thieves. 

3S. All is fair in love and war. 

39. ’Tis an ill wind that blows nobody good. 

40. Beauty unadorned’s adorned the most. 

41. Still waters run deep. 


the ditch. 

35. When poverty comes in at the door love 


lect. 

33. For desperate cuts, desperate cures. 

34. To go round is better than falling into 


30. Penny wise, pound foolish. 

31. Ear, hear the other side. 

32. He that neglects time, Time will neg- 


Proverb 23.— All is not gold that glitters. 

Dramatis Persona. 


H ENRY H awtrey, a country curate , not long ordained. 

Charles Oakover, his college friend, not in orders. 

Miss Frances Beddington, an heiress. 

Julia, her cousin, an orphan , and 

Mrs. Beddington, aunt to J ulia and F ranges, and their chaperone. 

Scene I .—A Drawr'ng-room, Frances and Julia at work. 

Frances, father satirically .) Well, Miss Julia, and how do 
you like your prospects? Are you half out of your wits with delight 
at the idea that this day month, yes ! in four short weeks, you’ll be 
Mrs. Henry Hawtrey ?— Mrs. Henry Hawtrey —and with all the 
cares of a parish on your shoulders, the schools to attend to, the old 
people to trot after, and yet obliged to keep up a decent and proper 
appearance on the magnificent sum of $1,000 a year. 

Julia, (smiling.) What an anxious picture you have drawn for 
me, dear Frances, but I am not scared by it. Poverty has no terrors 
for me, if shared with Henry. Am I not also used to small means? 
and is not an humble curate a suitable match for an orphan without a 
dollar in the world ? 

Fra. Oh, I’ve no doubt its all very fine ; but I own that I am 
not so certain that you will find the reality so pleasing as that romantic 
picture you have drawn in your mind’s eye, of “love in a cottage.” 
Charley is not so rich as he might be ; but were I to lose my whole 
fortune to-morrow, it would be some consolation to remember that he 
has his four thousand a year, which, joined to a handsome person, is 



ACTING CHARADES. 


69 


something, and I'm no advocate for “ love in a cottage,’’ dear 
Julia. Now I should have married Henry, because I’ve a good for¬ 
tune, and you should have married Charles. 

Julia. You pity me, dear, whilst 1 look to your future as Mr. 
Oakover’s wife with the greatest anxiety. 

Fra. What has poor Charley done to incur your displeasure? 

Julia. He has done nothing. 

Fra. Oh, I know you think him idle and selfish, and that he pro¬ 
posed to me only for my money, but I don’t and can’t believe it; he 
always appears so disinterested. 

Julia. Appearances are not always to be trusted; now Henry— 

Fra. Spare me, dear Julia, a panegyric on Henry ! He has, I 
know, every virtue under the sun, whilst Charley is no saint. If he’s 
extravagant, I have ample means, and he can afford to indulge his ex¬ 
pensive tastes as he likes. 

Julia. But suppose, dear, you lost your fortune; suppose, when 
youth is past and flown, and when sober reality has replaced the gay 
illusions, that— 

Fra. Nonsense, dear ! suppose the President is deposed by Queen 
Victoria and Mr. Blaine, as minister to the usurper, assists to exile Her 
Majesty and family into honorable retirement; suppose—suppose that 
Julia Beddington, aged twenty-five, and engaged to be married to a 
curate who is “perfection,” turns lecturer to her cousin, heiress, not 
perfection, but possessing half a million. 

Julia, (interrupting her.} But, dear Frances, “ All is not gold 
that glitters;” the question is, would Mr. Oakover be as constant to 
the penniless cousin as he is to the rich heiress ? 

Fra. I am certain of it; I have great faith in Charley’s attach¬ 
ment to me. 


Scene II. Enter her aunt , Mrs. Beddington, a letter in her hand y 

and looking pale and agitated. 

M rs. B. My dear, dear niece, I have very bad news for you. 
Frances. 


Julia. 


What is it ? You alarm us ! 


Mrs. B. The bank in which your guardian put your money has 
failed ! 

Fra. Good heavens ! 

Julia. My dear Frances ! (. Rushes to her cousin , who sinks down 
fainting on the sofa.) 


1 



70 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


Fra. My poor guardian ; has he lost much of my money, aunt ? 
Mrs. B. ( sobs.) All. 

Fra. All? (stares wildly at Mrs. B.) 

Julia. This is too dreadful; I do hope that her trust money is 
saved ? 

M rs. B. Alas ! his own fortune and the $250,000 he held as your 
trustee is all gone. 

Fra. It is indeed a severe shock to me ; but ( rises from her seat ) 
do not grieve, dear aunt, I shall not be a rich heiress, but have I not 
this home? 

Mrs. B. My poor child! I much fear,—indeed I have reason to be¬ 
lieve— (aside) it is almost too cruel to tell her—I really cannot. 
(whispers to Julia, who covers her face with her hands and sobs 
aloud.) 

Fra. (imploringly.) Pray tell me all. 

Mrs. B. The guardian has fled! Your cousin Tom has written 
-to me. ( takes a letter from her pocket and reads.) 

“ I much fear the rascal has made way with all her trust money ; 
I find he has mortgaged her property, and the money in bonds is gone 
too ; all you can do is to advertise her to let the manor house, marry 
Mr. Oakover, and retrench.” 

Fra. Ah, poor Charles! yet how thankful I ought to feel to be 
engaged to anyone so true-hearted as he is ! (takes her aunt's hand.) 
I am selfish in only thinking of myself! and you, dear aunt, have you 
lost much ? 

Mrs. B. 1 too have lost all. 

Fra. Poor dear aunt! but you will always live with Charles and 
me, I hope. 

J ulia. What a prophet of evil I have been ! (aside.) 

Fra. (who has not heard her remark.) Where is Charles ? I 
must lose no time before I tell him. 

[Exit Frances through the drawing room window leading into the 
garden , as Henry Hawtrey enters at the door. 

K 

Scene III.— Julia, her Aunt, Henry Hawtrey. 

Julia. Henry! have you heard? 

H en. I have, but where is Frances? I must see her, and if pos¬ 
sible, save her additional pain. 

J ulia and ) What has happened ? 

Mrs. B. J Is anything else the matter ? 








ACTING CHARADES. 


71 


H en. Everything has happened, and everything’s the matter. 

[aside to Julia)] Oh, dearest! how hard it is to find one’s self de¬ 
ceived in the favorite friend of our boyish days, and to discover he is 
after all, selfish—mercenary—interested ! 

Julia. Oh, Henry! has Charles deserted poor Frances? 

Henry {aloud.') Yes, dear girl, Charles has commissioned me 
to tell Frances that the engagement must now end. “ A change of 
circumstances,” so he alleges, necessitates the step. Scoundrel ! 

Julia. Heartless! cruel! selfish! It is as I feared. I always 
distrusted him. Poor Frances! (Julia sobs. Henry walks up and 
dozvn the room indignantly .) 

M rs. B. I am indeed, overwhelmed, but can only hope that poor 
Frances, in losing her fortune, will judge him in a truer light ; but 
let us trust we are now all misjudging him. 

H en. Misjudge him ! He’s the meanest rascal— ( Enter Fran¬ 
ces, her face flushed y and traces of tears on it , followed by Mr. Oak- 
over, looking confused.) 

Scene IV.— The ivholc Dramatis Persona. 

Mr. Oakover. Indeed, I am sorry if I have given you pain, 
Frances, but what can I do ? We can’t marry on “nothing a year,” 
and on matters of such importance candor is desirable. 

Hen. I quite agree with you, Mr. Oakover, and I shall be candid 
in requesting you to leave the room, and the house, or I shall kick 
you out! 

Fra. Oh, Henry, it is not worth quarreling about. If in one 
day I lose my fortune, and with it my husband, yet have I gained 
with my loss what will, I hope, prove of inestimable value to me—a 
better knowledge of Mr. Oakover’s character. I know now that his 
protestations of attachment were worthless—for they meant nothing. 
It may be painful for me to own it, but I find he loved my money, 
not myself. ( With spirit to Charles.) You are free. Farewell! I 
will bear my loss of fortune alone, since you fear to risk yours with 
mine, and since I am ruined. Again, farewell ! I forgive you—but 
leave me. (1 Goes to Julia, and throws herself sobbing into her 

arm si) 

Charles. Farewell, Miss Beddington, I feel sorry- 

Hen. And so am I, that I can’t kick you down stairs. 

Charles. Sir! I should demand an apology, were it not for your 

cloth. 





72 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


Hen. Sir! you’re a scoundrel, and that poor girl yonder has 
been your dupe. Were it not that I am a clergyman, I’d horsewhip 
you. 

Charles. Pray be calm, Mr. Hawtrey. Good-morning, ladies. 
I’ll go and pack up. 

H en. The sooner the better, sir ! 

Julia. Henry ! ( laying her hand on his arm.') 

Mrs. B. Mr. Oakover, pray terminate so painful a scene. 

\Exit Charles. 

Fra. Dear aunt ( kisses her), dear Julia, and Henry ( gives him 
her hand), I have much to regret, but all is not lost as long as you 
three are so true to me ( turns to Julia.) You were right, dear 
Julia, in your misgivings ; what was the proverb ? 

{If the aiidience cannot guess it, Julia says) 

Dear Frances, I always told you, “All is not gold that glitters.” 

\Curtain falls . 

TABLEAUX VIVANTS. 

There are few amusements - more graceful, more interesting alike 
to young and old, than the performance of Tableaux Vivants, or “ Liv¬ 
ing Pictures.” They have long been popular in Europe, where hardly 
a year passes without some representations of tableaux vivants, on a 
large and original scale, being performed at the various courts and 
capitals. There the most favored artists do not disdain to lend their 
aid in arranging tableaux vivants, and both direct and enjoy such com¬ 
binations of beauty, form and color, as are hardly to be met with in 
the most gorgeous productions of the old masters. To the young, 
gifted with artistic feeling and a desire to excel in the highest walks 
of art, there are few things more likely to awaken the imagination, to 
inspire feelings of poetry and a knowledge of composition and group¬ 
ing, than the exercise of this delightful recreation. Even to the 
experienced and professed artist much may be suggested—the truth 
of much in art may be tested by the spectacle of a “ Living Picture.” 

There is one great requisite for success, in the representation of 
tableaux vivants, not by any means so absolutely essential in the per¬ 
formance of charades—sufficient space between the spectators and the 
stage. Certainly, not less than six feet should be left between the 
stage and spectators; and in cases where it is possible, from eight to 
twelve feet is desirable; “ distance lending enchantment to the view,” 
particularly as regards a tableau vivant. 


ACTING CHARADES. 


73 


In a house containing neither hall nor gallery, where a regular 
theatrical stage can be erected, no position is better adapted for tab¬ 
leaux than between the folding-doors of two parlor rooms reserving 
the smallest room, of course, for the picture. 

The first point to be considered is— 

The Stage. 

It is perfectly essential that this should be raised about three feet 
above the floor on which the spectators are seated. A little less than 
three feet will suffice ; but the effect is better when rather over than 
under three feet. 

The most successful tableaux we have seen represented were on 
a stage formed of a strong dining-table and one or two kitchen-tables 
firmly tied together. On the top of these was laid a dark-green baize 
drugget, well-stretched and tied over the tables ; but though a very 
much smaller stage is required for drawing-room tableaux than for a 
farce or charade, it is quite necessary that it should be at least 
a foot larger on each side than the opening of the folding-doors. 
Where a house contains a hall or gallery which will allow of a tem¬ 
porary stage being erected, any village carpenter would soon arrange 
one by placing smooth planks on firm joists. The size of the stage 
ought to be about twelve feet square ; but as the spectators would be 
placed at a considerably greater distance than in a drawing-room, it 
should be raised nearly six feet from the ground, thereby enabling the 
back rows of spectators to view the tableaux as conveniently as those 
placed in front. 

Where a temporary stage is erected, either curtains hung at the 
side, or a screen with a proportionate opening made for the stage, and 
painted like a picture-frame, must be added. The screen is the most 
convenient, as it affords greater facilities for lighting the stage than 
a curtain. 

Between the performers and spectators a close black gauze or 
muslin must be stretched. If the tableaux are performed in a draw¬ 
ing-room, it should be nailed tightly across the opening of the folding- 
doors or arch. 

At the back of the stage a high screen should be placed. The 
color of the cloth hung over this screen must vary a little according 
to the coloring of the objects in the pictures ; as, for instance, when 
the figures are clothed in black, a light background is necessary ; but 
for most subjects, particularly those in which there is a predominance 
of brilliant colors, a black or dark-green drapery is advisable. At the 



74 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


same time, when performing a series of tableaux , it gives variety and 
relief if this be sometimes changed to a drab, or neutral-tinted cloth. 
One point is really essential, namely, that the floor of the stage be 
covered with a dark cloth. 

We now proceed to the next most important element of success 
in a u living picture 

The Lights. 

The arrangement of these, of course, depends much on the pict¬ 
ure ; but there are two or three rules quite established on the subject. 
Footlights are to be particularly avoided, as they throw unbecoming 
shadows on the face, and generally destroy the picturesque appearance 
of the tableau. With some exceptions, where a cross light is essential, 
it is best that the lights should be all placed on one side of the stage ; 
the majority of them high up. The best lamp for this purpose is a 
common carriage-lamp. From four to six of these, with their tin re¬ 
flectors will be found ample, if placed with discretion, to produce a 
brilliant light. It must never be forgotten, however, that as the drop- 
curtain slowly ascends, a friendly hand should quickly extinguish all 
lights in the spectators’ apartment. When a fire or moonlight 
scene is depicted, a red or green shade should be placed over the glass 
of each lamp ; this is formed of colored glass, or tinted silver-paper 
of the hue required. Another method, is to hang globes of colored 
liquid, such as are seen in chemists’ shops, in front of the lamps. 

In a fire scene, a most happy effect is produced by burning red 
fire at the sides. For this we give the following receipt, the propor¬ 
tion of which should be particularly observed: 

Five ounces of strontia (dry), one and a half ounce of finely- 
powdered sulphur; powder them separately in a mortar. Take next 
five drams chlorate of potash, and four drams sulphuret of antimony; 
mix them on a paper, and add last the other ingredients (previously 
powdered); rub the whole together on paper. For use, mix a little 
spirits of wine with the powder, and burn in a flat iron pan or plate. 
This may be ignited by fastening a lighted fuse to a long rod. 

A beautiful green fire may also be made by powdering finely, and 
mixing well, thirteen parts flour of sulphur, five parts oxy-muriate of 
potassa, two parts metallic arsenic, and three parts pulverized char¬ 
coal. Then take seventy-seven parts nitrate of baryta; dry it care¬ 
fully, powder it, and mix the whole thoroughly. A polished reflector 
will concentrate the light and cast a brilliant green luster on the fig¬ 
ures. But excepting in the case of the red fire, these lights are not 


ACTING CHARADES. 


75 


very desirable, as they produce a disagreeable smell, and a pale moon¬ 
light effect is more easily obtained by a green shade being placed over 
the lamps. 

It must be noted that in a large tableau , comprising many figures, 
as much light as possible is required. In moonlight scenes, very little 
light. In medium pictures, shade should be thrown on various parts 
so as to bring the principal figure into a strong light. 

For scenes where an unearthly ghost-like effect is desired, the 
following receipt has a marvelous effect: 

Mix some common salt with spirits of wine in a metal pot, set it 
in a wire frame over a spirit-lamp. The other lights should all be ex¬ 
tinguished, and that of the spirit-lamp shaded in some way. The 
result will be, that everything assumes a dingy yellow tint, no matter 
how bright the costumes or roses on the cheeks may be. 

We must not forget to mention, the excellent effect produced in 
scenes of dreams or ghosts by the use of the magic lantern. And, 
lastly, where space will admit, and expense need not be considered, 
the almost spiritual halo of beauty lent by the rays of the electric 
light thrown on the human figure. It need, perhaps, hardly be stated 
how much pleasure the effect of this light produces in representations 
of this nature; but it is generally out of reach of amateurs—its pow¬ 
erful rays requiring more extent of stage and theater than are usually 
at their disposal. 

Before we proceed to consider the subject of grouping, we shall 
give a few directions as to the best and most convenient arrangements 
required for— 

The Curtain. 

This should be made of stout, dark calico, care being always taken 
that the calico is of a thick and close make, so as not to allow the 
light and figures to be seen through it. A slight bar of wood should 
be fastened to the top and bottom of the curtain; and at intervals of 
about half a yard, large, strong brass rings must be fixed along each 
of these bars of wood. Then in lines down the curtain, commencing 
from the large ring at the top and finishing by the large ring at the 
bottom, sew smaller brass rings at intervals of a quarter of a yard apart. 
These should of course, be sewn inside the curtain. Then fasten the 
top bar of wood to two hooks knocked into the sides of the doorway, 
and tying strong lines to the large rings on the lower bar of the cur¬ 
tain, pass them up through the small rings on the calico to the large 


;6 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


rings on the top bar; then dividing these lines into two equal portions, 
draw one portion to one side of the doorway and the other portion to 
the opposite side, first taking care to tie the ends of each portion in 
one large knot. Then wind the superfluous lengths round a couple 
of hooks fixed on each side of the doorway. When the curtain is to 
be drawn up, persons on each side of it should officiate, commencing 
their work in unison when a small bell is rung as a signal. They 
should never quit their posts, as it is seldom in the power of those who 
‘‘pose” to remain immovable for longer than between two or three 
minutes. It is better, therefore, to draw up, and let the curtain fall 
two or three times, than run any risk of destroying the illusion by 
the moving of any of the actors. An interval of two minutes affords 
sufficient rest between each drawing up pf the curtain. 

We now turn to the subject of 

Grouping. 

There are a few rules on this point which should never, with some 
rare exceptions, be departed from. In a picture, the main secret of 
success is the manner in which the light and shade fall on the different 
parts of it. And the most frequent error of the inexperienced in ar¬ 
ranging “living pictures” is the introduction of too great a variety of 
bright colors. Showy costumes should be intermingled with those of 
a more somber hue. In general, the lightest and palest-tinted dresses 
should be in the background, to relieve the darker ones. If the in¬ 
terest of the picture fall on one principal figure, the figure should be 
clothed in white, if a woman ; or in a simple dark dress of one tint 
throughout, if a man. 

As the sight of the tableau is so transitory, these strong contrasts 
are needed to tell the story quickly to the imagination. In general, 
the tallest figures should be in the background, so that all may be 
seen ; but this rule must be reversed when there is space enough on 
the stage to attempt anything like perspective or distance. To effect 
this, the figures should gradually become shorter and smaller, and the 
tints of the dresses paler and less vivid. 

We should say to the inexperienced, “ Choose your subjects 
always from pictures by celebrated artists.” 

Subjects for “ Living Pictures.” 

Having given a detailed account of two subjects from pictures, 
we now present a list of subjects for living pictures as suggestions to 


ACTING CHARADES. 77 

those who would study and arrange these representations from the 
engravings or pictures referred to : 

The Princes in the Tower. Two figures . Engravings from a 
celebrated French picture by Paul Delaroche. 

The Huguenots, by Millais. Two figures. 

Beatrice Cenci on her way to the Scaffold, by Guido. One figure. 
If the talents of the band of performers are such as would aid 
them in the composition of groups, we need only suggest subjects in 
history and well-known fictions that in themselves present striking 
pictures: 

For instance : 

The Death of Sir John Moore. 

Napoleon and his Old Guard at Waterloo. 

The Fanding of Columbus. 

The Signingof the Declaration of Independence. 

Appearance of the Ghost in Hamlet. 

Rienzi in the House of Colonna. (From Bulwer Lytton.) 

Jeannie Deans and Queen Caroline. (From Walter Scott.) 
Catherine Douglas Barring the Door with her Arm. 


POPULAR RECITATIONS. 


THE PRIDE OF BATTERY B. 

South Mountain towered upon our right, far off the river lay, 

And over on the wooded height we held their lines at bay. 

At last the muttering guns were still ; the day died slow and wan, 

At last the gunners’ pipes did fill, the sergeant’s yarns began. 

When, as the wind a moment blew aside the fragrant flood, 

Our brierwoods raised, within our view a little maiden stood. 

A tiny tot of six or seven, from fireside fresh she seemed 
(Of such a little one in heaven one soldier often dreamed.) 

And as we stared, her little hand went to her curly head 

In grave salute : “ And who are you ?” at length the sergeant said ; 

“ And where’s your home?” he growled again. She lisped out, “ Who 
is me ? 

Why, don’t you know ? I’m little Jane, the Pride of Battery B. 

“ My home ? Why, that was burned away, and pa and ma are dead, 
And so I ride the guns all day, along with Sergeant Ned. 

“ And I’ve a drum that’s not a toy, a cap with feathers, too, 

And I march beside the drummer boy on Sundays at review. 

“ But now our ’bacca’s all give out, the men can’t have their smoke, 

And so they’re cross—why, even Ned won’t play with me and joke. 

78 










MR. THOS. W. KEENE as “MARC ANTHONY.” 


































■ 


















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0 
































mA .■ I ' 

i - ■ 
































. 

| ; I I 


■ ■ 
























POPULAR RECITATIONS. 


79 


“ And the big colonel said, to-day—I hate to hear him swear— 

He’d give a leg for a good pipe like the Yank had over there ; 

“ And so I thought when beat the drum, and the big guns were still, 
I’d creep beneath the tent and come out here across the hill 

“ And beg, good Mister Yankee men, you’d give me some Lone 
Jack,— 

Please do—when we get some again I’ll surely bring it back. 

“ Indeed, I will, for Ned—says he—if I do what I say, 

I’ll be a general yet, maybe, and ride a prancing bay.” 

We brimmed her tiny apron o’er: you should have heard her laugh 
As each man from his scanty store shook out a generous half. 

To kiss the little mouth stooped down a score of grimy men, 

Until the sergeant’s husky voice said “’Tention, squad!”—and then 

We gave her escort, till good-night the pretty waif we bid, 

And watched her toddle out of sight—or else ’twas tears that hid 

Her tiny form—nor turned about a man, nor spoke a word 
Till after awhile a far, hoarse shout upon the wind we heard ! 

We sent it back, and cast sad eyes upon the scene around : 

A baby’s hand had touched the ties that brothers once had bound. 

That’s all—save when the dawn awoke again the work of hell, 

And through the sullen clouds of smoke the screaming missiles fell, 

Our General often rubbed his glass, and marveled much to see 
Not a single shell that whole day fell in the camp of Battery B. 

F. H. Gassaway. 


THE BELLS. 


T. 

H ear the sledges with the bells— 

Silver bells— 

What a world of merriment their melody foretells ! 
How they tinkle, tinkle, tinkle, 

In the icy air of night ! 











8o 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


While the stars that over-sprinkle 
All the heavens, seem to twinkle 
With a crystalline delight— 

Keeping time, time, time, 

In a sort of Runic rhyme, 

To the tintinnabulation that so musically swells 
From the bells, bells, bells, bells, 

Bells, bells, bells— 

From the jingling and the tingling of the bells. 


ii. 

Hear the mellow wedding bells— 

Golden bells ! 

What a world of happiness their harmony foretells 1 
Through the balmy air of night 
How they ring out their delight! 

From the molten-golden notes, 

And all in tune, 

What a liquid ditty floats 
To the turtle dove that listens, while she gloats 

On the moon ! 

Oh, from out the sounding cells, 

What a gush of euphony voluminously wells ! 

H ow it swells ! 

How it dwells 

On the Future ! how it tells* 

Of the rapture that impels 
To the swinging and the ringing 
Of the bells, bells, bells, 

Of the bells, bells, bells, bells, 

Bells, bells, bells— 

To the rhyming and the chiming of the bells. 

hi. 

Hear the loud alarum bells— 

Brazen bells ! 

What a tale of terror now their turbulency tells ! 

In the startled ear of nieht 
How they scream out their affright! 





POPULAR RECITAT.IONS. 


Too much horrified to speak, 

They can only shriek, shriek, 

Out of tune, 

In a clamorous appealing to the mercy of the fire. 

In a mad expostulation with the deaf and frantic fire 
Leaping higher, higher, higher, 

With a desperate desire, 

And a resolute endeavor, 

Now—now to sit or never, 

By the side of the pale-faced moon. 

Oh, the bells, bells, bells, 

What a tale their terror tells, 

Of despair ! 

How they clang, and clash, and roar ! 

What a horror they outpour 
In the bosom of the palpitating air ! 

Yet the ear it fully knows 
By the twanging 
And the clanging 
How the danger sinks and swells, 

By the sinking: or the swelling: in the ang:er of the bells— 

Of the bells— 

Of the bells, bells, bells, bells, 

Bells, bells, bells— 

In the clamor and the clangor of the bells ! 

IV. 

Hear the tolling of the bells— 

Iron bells ! 

What a world of solemn thought their monody compels 
In the silence of the night, 

How we shiver with affright, 

At the melancholy menace of their tone ! 

For every sound that floats 
From the rust within their throats 
Is a groan. 

And the people—ah, the people— 

They that dwell up in the steeple, 

All alone, 





82 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


And who tolling, tolling, tollin 
In that muffled monotone 
Feel a glory in so rolling 

On the human heart a stone. 

They are neither man nor woman— 

They are neither brute nor human— 

They are ghouls: 

And their king it is who tolls; 

And he rolls, rolls, rolls, 

Rolls 

A paean from the bells! 

And his merry bosom swells 
With the paean of the bells! 

And he dances and he yells, 

Keeping time, time, time, 

In a sort of Runic rhyme, 

To the paean of the bells— 

Of the bells: 

Keeping time, time, time, 

In a sort of Runic rhyme, 

To the throbbing of the bells— 

Of the bells, bells, bells— 

To the sobbing of the bells; 

Keeping time, time, time, 

As he knells, knells, knells, 

In a happy Runic rhyme, 

To the rolling of the bells— 

Of the bells, bells, bells— 

To the tolling of the bells, 

Of the bells, bells, bells, bells— 

Bells, bells, bells— 

To the moaning and the groaning of the bells. 

Edgar Allan Poe. 


DEATH OF LITTLE JO. 

Jo is very glad to see his old friend; and says, when they are left 
alone, that he takes it uncommon kind as Mr. Sangsby should come 
so far out of his way on account of sich as him. Mr. Sangsby, touched 









POPULAR RECITATIONS. 83 

by the spectacle before him, immediately lays upon the table half-a- 
crown, that magic balsam of his for all kinds of wounds. 

“And how do you find yourself, my poor lad?” inquired the sta¬ 
tioner, with his cough of sympathy. 

“I’m in luck, Mr. Sangsby, I am,” returns Jo, “and don’t 
want for nothing. I’m more cumfbler nor you can’t think, 
Mr. Sangsby. I’m wery sorry I done it, but I didn’t go fur to 
do it, sir.” 

The stationer softly lays down another half-crown, and asks him 
what it is he is sorry for having done. 

“ Mr. Sangsby,” says Jo, “I went and give a illness to the lady as 
wos and yet warn’t the t’other lady, and none of them never says 
nothink to me for having done it, on accounts of their being so good 
and my having been s’ unfortnet. The lady come herself and see me 
yes’day, and she ses, ‘Ah Jo!’ she ses, ‘We thought we’d lost you, 
Jo!’ she ses. And she sits down a smilin’ so quiet, and don’t pass a 
word not yit a look upon me for having done it, she don’t, and I turns 
agin the wall, I does, Mr. Sangsby. and Mr. Jarnders, I see him a 
forced to turn away his own self. And Mr. Woodcot, he come fur to 
give me somethink fur to ease me, wot he’s alius a doin’ on day and 
night, and w’en he come a bendin’ over me and a speakin’ up so bold, 
I see his tears a failin’, Mr. Sangsby.” 

The softened stationer deposits another half-crown on the table. 
Nothing less than a repetition of that infallible remedy will relieve 
his feelings. 

“Wot I wos thinkin’ on, Mr. Sangsby,” proceeds Jo, “wos, as 
you wos able to write wery large, p’raps ? ” 

“Yes, Jo, please God,” returns the stationer. 

“Uncommon precious large, p’raps?” says Jo, with eagerness. 

“Yes, my poor boy.” 

Jo laughs with pleasure. “Wot I wos thinkin’ on, then, Mr. 
Sangsby, wos, that when I was moved on as fur as ever I could go, 
and couldn’t be moved no furder, whether you might be so good, 
p’raps, as to write out very large, so that any one could see it any¬ 
wheres, as that I was wery truly hearty sorry that I done it, and that 
I never went fur to do it, and that though I didn’t know nothink at 
all, I know’d as Mr. Woodcot once cried over it, and was alius grieved 
over it, and that I hoped as he’d be able to forgive me in his mind. 
If the writin’ could be made to say it wery large, he might.” 

“ It shall say it, Jo, very large.” 


8 4 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


Jo laughs again. “Thankee, Mr. Sangsby. It’s wery kind of 
you, sir, and it makes me more cumfbler nor I wos afore.” 

The meek little stationer, with a broken and unfinished cough, 
slips down his fourth half-crown—he has never been so close to a case 
requiring so many—and is fain to depart. And Jo and he, upon this 
little earth, shall meet no more—no more. 

Another Scene. Enter Mr. Woodcot. 

“Well, Jo, what is the matter ? Don’t be frightened.” 

“ I thought,” said Jo, who has started and is looking round, “ I 
thought I was in Tom-all-Alone’s agin. Ain’t there nobody here but 
you, Mr. Woodcot ?” 

“ Nobody.” 

“And I ain’t took back agin to Tom-all-Alone’s, am I, sir?” 
“No.” 

Jo closes his eyes, muttering, “ I’m wery thankful.” 

After watching him closely a little while, Allan puts his mouth 
very near his ear, and says to him in a low, distinct voice : “Jo, did 
you ever know a prayer?” 

“ Never knowd nothink, sir.” 

“ Not so much as one short prayer ? ” 

“ No, sir, nothink at all. Mr. Chadbands, he wos a prayin’ wunst 
at Mr. Sangsby’s, and I heerd him, but he sounded as if he was a 
speakin’ to hisself, and not to me. He prayed a lot, but / couldn’t 
make out nothink on it. Different times there wos other gen’l’men 
come down to Tom-all-Alone’s a prayin’, but they all mostly sed as 
the t’other wuns prayed wrong, and all mostly sounded to be a talkin’ 
to theirselves, or a passin’ blame on the t’others, and not a talkin’ to 
us. We never know’d nothink. I never know’d what it wos all 
about.’’ 

It takes him a long time to say this ; and few but an experienced 
and attentive listener could hear, or hearing, understand him. After 
a short relapse into sleep or stupor, he makes, of a sudden, a strong 
effort to get out of bed. 

“Stay, Jo, stay ! what now?” 

“ It’s time for me to go to that there berryin’ ground, sir,” he 
returns, with a wild look. 

“ Lie down and tell me. What burying ground, Jo ? ’’ 

“ Where they laid him as wos wery good to me ; wery good to 
me, indeed, he was. It’s time for me to go down to that there berryin’ 




POPULAR RECITATIONS. 


85 


ground, sir, and ask to be put along with him. I wants to go there 
and be berried. He used for to say to me, ‘ I am as poor as you to¬ 
day, Jo,’ he ses. I wants to tell him that I am as poor as him now, 
and have come there to be laid along with him.” 

“ By-and-by, Jo ; by-and-by.” 

“ Ah ! P’raps they wouldn’t do it if I wos to go myself. But 
will you promise to have me took there, sir, and laid along with him?” 

“ I will, indeed.” 

“ Thankee, sir! Thankee, sir! They’ll have to get the key of 
the gate afore they can take me in, for it’s alius locked. And there’s 
a step there, as I used fur to clean with my broom—it’s turned very 
dark, sir. Is there any light a cornin’?” 

“ It is coming fast, Jo.” 

Fast. The cart is shaken all to pieces, and the rugged road is 
very near its end. 

“Jo, my poor fellow !” 

“I hear you, sir, in the dark, but I’m a-gropin’—a-gropin’—let me 
catch hold of your hand.” 

“Jo, can you say what I say?” 

“ I’ll say anything as you’ll say, sir, for I knows it’s good.” 

“ Our FAther.” 

“ Our Father!—yes, that’s wery good, sir.” 

“Which art in Heaven.” 

“ Art in H eaven!—Is the light a-comin’, sir?” 

“It is close at hand. Hallowed be Thy Name.” 

“ Hallowed be—thy—name! ” 

The light is come upon the dark benighted way. Dead. Dead, 
your Majesty. Dead, my lords and gentlemen. Dead, Right Rev¬ 
erends and Wrong Reverends of every order. Dead, men and 
women, born with heavenly compassion in your hearts. And dying 
thus around us every day ! 

Charles Dickens. 


ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA. 

I am dying, Egypt, dying, 

Ebbs the crimson life-tide fast, 

And the dark Plutonian shadows 
Gather on the evening blast; 





86 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


Let thine arms, O Oueen, enfold me ! 

Hush thy sobs, and bow thine ear; 
Listen to the great heart-secrets 
Thou, and thou alone, must hear. 

Though my scarred and veteran legions 
Bear their eagles high no more, 

And my wrecked and scattered galleys 
Strew dark Actium’s fatal shore ; 
Though no glittering guards surround me, 
Prompt to do their master’s will, 

I must perish like a Roman, 

Die the great Triumvir still. 

Let not Caesar’s servile minions 
Mock the lion thus laid low; 

’Twas no foeman’s arm that felled him— 
’Twas his own that struck the blow,— 

H is, who, pillowed on thy bosom, 

Turned aside from glory’s ray— 

His, who, drunk with thy caresses, 

Madly threw a world away. 

Should the base plebeian rabble 
Dare assail my name at Rome, 

Where my noble spouse, Octavia, 

Weeps within her widowed home, 

Seek her ; say the gods bear witness— 
Altars, augurs, circling wings— 

That her blood, with mine commingled, 
Yet shall mount the throne of kings. 

And for thee, star-eyed Egyptian ! 

Glorious sorceress of the Nile, 

Light the path to Stygian horrors 
With the splendors of thy smile. 

Give the Caesar crowns and arches, 

Let his brow the laurel twine ; 

I can scorn the Senate’s triumphs, 
Triumphing in love like thine. 





POPULAR RECITATIONS. 


87 


I am dying, Egypt, dying ; 

Hark ! the insulting foeman’s cry. 

They are coming ! quick, my falchion ! 

Let me front them, ere I die. 

Ah ! no more amid the battle 
Shall my heart exulting swell— 

Isis and Osiris guard thee ! 

Cleopatra, Rome, farewell ! 

Gen. Lytle. 


ARTEMUS WARD ON WOMAN’S RIGHTS. 

I picht my tent in a small town in Injiany one day last season, 
and while I was standin’ at the dore takin’ money, a deppytashen of 
ladies came up and sed they was members of the Bunkumville Lemale 
Reformin’ and Wimmin’s Rites’ Associashun, and they axed me if they 
cood go in without payin’. 

“ Not exactly,” sez I, “ but you can pay without goin’ in.” 

“ Dew you know who we air?” said one of the wimmin—a tall 
and feroshus lookin’ critter,—“ do you know who we air, Sir?” 

“ My impreshun is,” sed I, “from a kersory view, that you are 
shemales.” 

“ We air, Sur,” said the feroshus woman—“we belong to a so¬ 
ciety whitch beleeves wimmin has rights—whitch beleeves in razing her 
to her proper speer—whitch beleeves she is endowed with as much 
intellect as man is—which beleeves she is trampled on and aboosed— 
and who will resist hencezj-th and forever the incroachments of proud 
and domineering man.’’ 

Durin’ her discourse, the excentric female grabbed me by the coat 
kollor and was swinging her umbreller wildly over my head. 

“ I hope, marm,” sez I, starting back, “ that your intentions is 
honorable. I’m a lone man here in a strange place. Besides, I’ve a 
wife to hum.” 

“Yes,” cried the female, “and she’s a slave! Doth she ever 
dream of freedom—doth she never think of throwin’ off the yoke of 
tyrinny, and thinkin’ and votin’ for herself ? Doth she never think of 
these here things ?” 

“ Not being a nat’ral born fool,” sed I, by this time a little riled, 
“ I ken safely say that she dothun’t.” 






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ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


“ Oh, whot—whot!” screamed the female, swingin’ her umbreller 
in the air. “ Oh, what is the price that woman pays for her experi- 
ence ! 

“ I don’t know,” sez I, “ the price to my show is fifteen cents pur 
individooal.” 

“ And can’t our society go in free?” asked the female. 

“ Not if I know it,” sed I. 

“ Crooil man !” she cried, and burst into tears. 

“Won’t you let my darter in?” sed anuther of the excenttic 
wimmin, takin’ me afeckshunately by the hand. “ Oh, please let my 
darter in, she’s a sweet gushin’ child of nature.” 

“ Let her gush !” roared I, as mad as I cood stick at their tarnal 
nonsense ; “let her gush.” Whereupon they all sprung back with the 
similtanius observashun that I was a Beest. 

“ My female friends,” sed I, “ be 4 you leave, I’ve a few remarks 
to remark ; wa them well. The female woman is one of the greatest 
institooshuns of which this land can boast. Its onpossible to get along 
without her. Had there been no female wimmin in the world, I shood 
scarcely be here with my unparaleld show on this very occashun. She 
is good in sickness —good in wellness—good at all times. Oh, woman, 
woman !” I cried, my feelins worked up to a hippoltick pitch, “ you 
air a angel when you behave yourself, but when you take off your 
proper appariel and [mettyforically speakin 1 ]—get into pantyloons— 
when you desert your firesides, and, with heds full of wimmin’s rites 
noshuns go round like roarin lyons, seekin’ whom you may devour 
somebody—in short, when you undertake to play man, you play the 
devil, and air an emfatic noosance. My female friends,” I contin- 
nered, as they were indignantly departin, “wa well what A. Ward has 
sed.” 

C. F. Browne. 


THE RAVEN. 

Once, upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary, 
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore— 
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping, 
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door. 

“ ’Tis some visitor,” I muttered, “ tapping at my chamber door— 

Only this, and nothing more.” 

Ah ! distinctly I remember! it was in the bleak December, 





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And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the flo( r. 
Eagerly I wished the morrow ; vainly I had tried to borrow 
From my books surcease of sorrow—sorrow for the lost Lenore — 
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels named Lenor( — 

Nameless here forevermore. 

And the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of each purple curtain 
Thrilled me—filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before ; 

So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating, 

“ ’Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door ; 

This it is, and nothing more.” 

Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer, 

“ Sir,” said I, ** or madam, truly your forgiveness I implore; 

But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping, 

And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door, 

That I scarce was sure I heard you ”—here I opened wide the do* *r ; 

Darkness there, and nothing more! 

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, 
fearing, 

Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before ; 
But the silence was unbroken, and the darkness gave no token, 

And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, “ Lenore!’ 
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, “ Lenore!” 

Merely this, and nothing more. 

Then into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning, 

Soon I heard again a tapping, somewhat louder than before; 

“ Surely,” said I, “surely that is something at my window-lattice ; 

Let me see then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore — 

Let my heart be still a moment, and this mystery explore — 

’Tis the wind, and nothing more!” 

Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flijt and flutter, 

In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore ; 

Not the least obeisance made he ; notan instant stopped or stayed he; 
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door—. 
Perched upon a bust of Pallas, just above my chamber door— 

Perched, and sat, and nothing more. 




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ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling, 

By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore ; 
“Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,” I said, “art sure no 
craven— 

Ghastly, grim and ancient raven, wandering from the nightly shore— 
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the night’s Plutonian shore !” 

Quoth the raven, “ Nevermore.” 

Much I marveled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly— . 

Though its answer little meaning, little relevancy bore ; 

For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being 
Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door, 

Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door— 

With such name as “Nevermore.” 

But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only 
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour. 
Nothing farther then he uttered—not a feather then he fluttered— 
Till I scarcely more than muttered, “ Other friends have flown 
before— 

On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before.” 

Then the bird said, u Nevermore.” 

Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken, 

“ Doubtless,” said I, “what it utters is its only stock and store— 
Caught from some unhappy master, whom unmerciful disaster 
Followed fast and followed faster, till his songs one burden bore— 
Till the dirges of his hope the melancholy burden bore 

Of ‘ Never—Nevermore.’ ” 

But the raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling, 

Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird and bust and 

door ; 

Then upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking 
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore 
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt and ominous bird of yore 

Meant in croaking, “ Nevermore.” 

$ 

This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing 
To the fowl, whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom’s core ; 

This, and more, I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining, 


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On the cushion s velvet lining - , with the lamplight gloating o’er, 

But whose velvet violet lining, with the lamplight gloating o’er, 

She shall press—ah, nevermore ! 

Then, methought the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen 

censer 

Swung by seraphim, whose faint footfalls tinkled on the tufted floor. 

“ Wretch !” I cried, “ thy God hath lent thee, by these angels he hath 

sent thee, 

Respite—respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore ! 

Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget the lost Lenore !” 

Quoth the raven, “Nevermore.” 

“ Prophet!” said I, “ thing of evil !—prophet still, if bird or devil ! 
Whether tempter sent, or whether tempest-tossed thee here ashore— 
Desolate, yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted, 

On this home by horror haunted—tell me truly, I implore— 

Is there—is there balm in Gilead ? tell me—tell me, I implore !’ ” 

Quoth the raven, “Nevermore.” 

“ Prophet,” said I, “ thing of evil!—prophet still, if bird or devil ! 

By the heaven that bends above us—by that God we both adore— 
Tell this soul with sorrow laden, if, within the distant Aidenn, 

It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore— 

Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore.” 

Quoth the raven, “ Nevermore.” 

“ Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!” I shrieked, 

upstarting— 

“ Get thee back into the tempest, and the night’s Plutonian shore! 
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken ! 
Leave my loneliness unbroken !—quit the bust above my door ! 

Take your beak from out my heart, and take your form from off my 
door! 

Quoth the raven, “ Nevermore.” 

And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting 
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door; 

And his eye has all the seeming of a demon’s that is dreaming, 

And the lamplight o’er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor; 
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor 

Shall be lifted—nevermore. 

Edgar Allan Poe. 









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ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


MARC ANTONY’S ADDRESS TO THE ROMANS. 

Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears; 

I come to bury Caesar, not to praise him. 

The evil that men do lives after them, 

The good is oft interred with their bones : 

So let it be with Caesar. The noble Brutus 
Hath told you, Caesar was ambitious ; 

If it were so, it was a grievous fault, 

And grievously hath Caesar answered it. 

Here, under leave of Brutus, and the rest,— 

For Brutus is an honorable man, 

So are they all, all honorable men,— 

Come I to speak in Caesar’s funeral. 

He was my friend, faithful and just to me: 

But Brutus says he was ambitious, 

And Brutus is an honorable man. 

He hath brought many captives home to Rome, 

Whose ransoms did the general coffers fill : 

Did this in Caesar seem ambitious? 

When that the poor hath cried, Caesar hath wept ; 
Ambition should be made of sterner stuff: 

Yet Brutus says he was ambitious, 

And Brutus is an honorable man. 

You all did see, that, at the Lupercal, 

I thrice presented him a kingly crown, 

Which he did thrice refuse. Was this ambition ? 

Yet Brutus says he was ambitious, 

And sure, he is an honorable man. 

I speak not to disprove what Brutus spoke, 

But here I am to speak what I do know. 

You all did love him once, not without cause : 

What cause withholds you then to mourn for him ? 

O judgment, thou art fled to brutish beasts, 

And men have lost their reason !—Bear with me ; 

My heart is in the coffin there with Caesar, 

And I must pause till it come back to me. 

But yesterday the word of Caesar might 
Have stood against the world ; now lies he there, 






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And none so poor to do him reverence. 

O masters ! if I were disposed to stir 
Your hearts and minds to mutiny and rage, 

I should do Brutus wrong, and Cassius wrong, 

Who, you all know, are honorable men. 

I will not do them wrong ; I rather choose 
To wrong the dead, to wrong myself and you, 

Than I will wrong such honorable men. 

But here’s a parchment, with the seal of Caesar; 

I found it in his closet; ’tis his will. 

Let but the commons hear this testament,— 

Which, pardon me, I do not mean to read,— 

And they would go and kiss dead Caesar’s wounds, 
And dip their napkins in his sacred blood ; 

Yea, beg a hair of him for memory, 

And, dying, mention it within their wills, 

Bequeathing it, as a rich legacy, 

U nto their issue. 

If you have tears, prepare to shed them now. 

You all do know this mantle ; I remember 
The first time ever Caesar put it on ; 

’Twas on a summer’s evening, in his tent; 

That day he overcame the Nervii,— 

Look! In this place ran Cassius’ dagger through ; 

See what a rent the envious Casca made ; 

Through this, the well-beloved Brutus stabbed, 

And, as he plucked his cursed steel away, 

Mark how the blood of Caesar followed it ! 

As rushing out of doors to be resolved 
.If Brutus so unkindly knocked, or no ; 

For Brutus, as you know, was Caesar’s angel ; 

Judge, O ye gods, how dearly Caesar loved him ! 

This was the unkindest cut of all ; 

For when the noble Caesar saw him stab, 

Ingratitude, more strong than traitors’ arms, 

Quite vanquished him. Then burst his mighty heart; 
And, in his mantle muffling up his face, 

Even at the base of Pompey’s statue, 

Which all the while ran blood, great Caesar fell. 





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ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


Oh, what a fall was there, my countrymen ! 

Then I, and you, and all of us fell down, 

Whilst bloody treason flourished over us. 

Oh ! now you weep; and I perceive you feel 
The dint of pity ;—these are gracious drops. 

Kind souls! What, weep you when you but behold 
Our Caesar’s vesture wounded? Look ye here ! 

H ere is himself, marred, as you see, by traitors. 

Good friends, sweet friends, let me not stir you up 
To such a sudden flood of mutiny. 

They that have done this deed are honorable ! 

What private griefs they have, alas! I know not, 

That made them do it. They are wise and honorable, 
And will, no doubt, with reasons answer you. 

I come not, friends, to steal away your hearts; 

I am no orator, as Brutus is ; 

But as you all do know, a plain, blunt man, 

That loves my friend ; and that they know full well 
That gave me public leave to speak of him. 

For I have neither wit, nor words, nor worth, 

Action, nor utterance, nor the power of speech, 

To stir men’s blood ;—I only speak right on ; 

I tell you that which you yourselves do know ; 

Show you sweet Caesar’s wounds, poor, poor dumb mouths, 
And bid them speak for me. But were I Brutus, 

And Brutus Antony, there were an Antony 
Would ruffle up your spirits, and put a tongue 
In every wound of Caesar, that should move 
The stones of Rome to rise and mutiny! 

Shakspeare. 


MARCO BOZZARIS. 

At midnight, in his guarded tent, 

The Turk was dreaming of the hour 
When Greece, her knee in suppliance bent, 
Should tremble at his power. 

In dreams, through camp and court, he bore 
The trophies of a conqueror; 


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In dreams his song of triumph heard ; 

Then wore his monarch’s signet-ring— 

Then pressed that monarch’s throne—a king ; 

As wild his thoughts, and gay of wing, 

As Eden’s garden bird. 

At midnight, in the forest shades, 

Bozzaris ranged his Suliot band— 

True as the steel of their tried blades, 

Heroes in heart and hand. 

There had the Persian’s thousands stood, 

There had the glad earth drunk their blood, 

On old Plataea’s day; 

And now there breathed that haunted air 
The sons of sires who conquered there, 

With arm to strike, and soul to dare, 

As quick, as far, as they. 

An hour passed on—the Turk awoke’ 

That bright dream was his last ; 

He woke to hear his sentries shriek, 

“To arms! they come! the Greek! the Greek!’ 
He woke—to die midst flame, and smoke, 

And shout, and groan, and sabre-stroke, 

And death-shots falling thick and fast 
As lightnings from the mountain-cloud ; 

And heard, with voice as trumpet loud, 

Bozzaris cheer his band ; 

“ Strike—till the last armed foe expires ; 

Strike—for your altars and your fires ; 

Strike—for the green graves of your sires ; 

God—and your native land!” 

They fought like brave men, long and well ; 

They piled that ground with Moslem slain : 
They conquered—but Bozzaris fell, 

Bleeding at every vein. 

H is few surviving comrades saw 
H is smile when rang their proud hurrah, 

And the red field was won ; 

Then saw in death his eyelids close 


/ 






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ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOxVLPLISHMENTS. 


Calmly as to a night’s repose, 

Like flowers at set of sun. 

Come to the bridal chamber, death ; 

Come to the mother’s, when she feels 
For the first time, her first-born’s breath ; 

Come when the blessed seals 
That close the pestilence are broke, 

And crowded cities wail its stroke ; 

Come in consumption’s ghastly form, 

The earthquake-shock, the ocean-storm ; 
Come when the heart beats high and warm, 
With banquet-song, and dance, and wine,— 
And thou art terrible—the tear, 

The groan, the knell, the pall, the bier, 

And all we know, or dream, or fear 
Of agony, are thine. 

But to the hero, when his sword 
Has won the battle for the free, 

Thy voice sounds like a prophet’s word ; 

And in its hollow tones are heard 
The thanks of millions yet to be ; 

Come, when his task of fame is wrought— 
Come, with her laurel-leaf, blood-bought— 
Come in her crowning hour—and then 
Thy sunken eye’s unearthly light 
To him is welcome as the sight 

Of sky and stars to prisoned men ; 

Thy grasp is welcome as the. hand 
Of brother in a foreign land ; 

Thy summons welcome as the cry 
That told the Indian isles were nigh 
To the world-seeking Genoese, 

When the land-wind, from woods of palm, 

And orange groves, and fields of balm, 

Blew o’er the Haytien seas. 

Bozzaris! with the storied brave 
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Rest thee—there is no prouder grave, 

Even in her own proud clime. 

She wore no funeral weeds for thee, 

Nor bade the dark hearse wave its plume, 

Like torn branch from death’s leafless tree, 

In sorrow’s pomp and pageantry, 

The heartless luxury of the tomb. 

But she remembers thee as one 
Long loved, and for a season gone. 

For thee her poet’s lyre is wreathed, 

Her marble wrought, her music breathed ; 

For thee she rings the birthday bells ; 

Of thee her babes’ first lisping tells ; 

For thine her evening prayer is said 
At palace couch and cottage bed ; 

Her soldier, closing with the foe, 

Gives for thy sake a deadlier blow ; 

His plighted maiden, when she fears 
For him, the joy of her young years, 

Thinks of thy fate, and checks her tears. 

And she, the mother of thy boys, 

Though in her eye and faded cheek 
Is read the grief she wiill not speak, 

The memory of her buried joys— 

And even she who gave thee birth 
Will, by her pilgrim-circled hearth, 

Talk of thy doom without a sigh ; 

For thou art freedom’s now and fame's— 

One of the few, the immortal names 
That were not born to die. 

Fitz-Greene Halleck. 

OTHELLO’S APOLOGY. 

Most potent, grave and reverend seigniors ; 

My very noble and approved good masters : 

That I have ta’en away this old man’s daughter, 

It is most true ; true, I have married her : 

The very head and front of my offending 
Hath this extent, no more. 


7 



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Rude am I in speech, 

And little blessed with the set phrase of peace : 

For since these arms of mine had seven years’ pith, 
Till now some nine moons wasted, they have used 
Their dearest action in the tented field ; 

And little of this great world can I speak, 

More than pertains to feats of broils and battle ; 

And therefore, little shall I grace my cause, 

In speaking of myself. 

Yet by your gracious patience, 

I will a round, unvarnished tale deliver, 

Of my whole course of love ; what drugs, what charms, 
What conjuration, and what mighty magic— 

For such proceedings I am charged withal— 

I won his daughter with. 

Her father loved me ; oft invited me ; 

Still questioned me the story of my life 
From year to year: the battles, sieges, fortunes, 

That I had past. 

I ran it through, e’en from my boyish days, 

To the very moment that he bade me tell it. 

Wherein I spake of most disastrous chances : 

Of moving accidents by flood and field ;• 

Of hairbreadth ’scapes, in the imminent deadly breach ; 
Of being taken by the insolent foe, 

And sold to slavery ; of my redemption thence, 

And with it all my travel’s history. 

All these to hear, 

Would Desdemona seriously incline ; 

But still the house affairs would draw her thence 
Which ever as she could with haste dispatch, 

She’d come again, and with a greedy ear, 

Devour up my discourse. Which, I observing, 

Took once a pliant hour, and found good means 
To draw from her a prayer of earnest heart. 

That I would all my pilgrimage dilate ; 

Whereof, by parcels, she had something heard, 

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I did consent ; 

And often did beguile her of her tears, 

When I did speak of some distressful stroke, 

That my youth suffered. My story being done, 

She gave me for my pains a world of sighs. 

She swore in faith, ’twas strange, ’twas passing strange ; 

’Twas pitiful ; ’twas wondrous pitiful ; 

She wished she had not heard it; yet she wished 
That heaven had made her such a man. 

She thanked me, 

And bade me, if I had a friend that loved her, 

I should but teach him how to tell my story, 

And that would woo her. On this hint I spake. 

She loved me for the dangers I had passed; 

And I loved her that she did pity them. 

This is the only witchcraft which I’ve used. 

Shakspeare. 

SPEECH FOR DECORATION DAY. 

As we cover the graves of the heroic dead with flowers the past 
rises before us like a dream, x^gain we are in the great struggle. 
We hear the sounds of preparation—the music of the boisterous 
drums—the silver voices of heroic bugles. We hear the appeals of 
orators; we see the pale cheeks of women, and the flushed faces of 
men ; we see all the dead whose dust we have covered with flowers. 
We lose sight of them no more. We are with them when they enlist 
in the great army of freedom. We see them part from those they 
love. Some are walking for the last time in the quiet woody places 
with the maidens they adore, We hear the whispers and the sweet 
vows of eternal love, as they lingeringly part forever. Others are 
bending over cradles kissing babies that are asleep. Some are receiv¬ 
ing the blessings of old men. Some are parting who hold them and 
press them to their hearts again and again, and say nothing ; and some 
are talking with wives, and trying with brave words spoken in the old 
tones to drive from their hearts the awful fear. We see them part. 
We see the wife standing in the door with the babe in her arms — 
standing in the sunlight sobbing; at the turn of the road a hand 
waves—she answers by holding high in her loving arms the child. 
He is gone, and forever ! 



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We see them all as they march proudly away, under the flaunting 
flags, keeping time to the wild music of war—marching down the 
streets of the great cities, through the towns, and across the prairies, 
to do and to die for the eternal right. We go with them, one and 
all. We are by their side on all the gory fields, in all the hospitals 
of pain, on all the weary marches. We stand guard with them in the 
wild storm, and under the quiet stars. We are with them in ravines 
running with blood, in the furrows of old fields. We are with them 
between contending hosts, unable to move, wild with thirst, the life blood 
ebbing slowly away among the withered leaves. We see them pierced 
with balls and torn by shells in the trenches by the forts and in the 
whirlwind of the charge, where men become iron with nerves of steel. 
We are at home when the news reaches us that they are dead. 
We see the maiden in the shadow of her first sorrow. We see the 
silvered head of the old man bowed with the last grief: 

Those heroes are dead. They sleep under the solemn pines, 
the sad hemlocks, the tearful willows, and the embracing vines. 
They sleep beneath the shadows of the clouds, careless alike of the 
sunshine or of storm, each in the windowless place of rest. Earth 
may run red with other wars—they are at peace. In the midst of 
battle> in the roar of the conflict, they found the serenity of death. 
I have one sentiment for the soldiers, living and dead—cheers for 
the living, tears for the dead. 

Col. R. G. Ingersoll. 


SCHNEIDER’S TOMATOES. 

Schneider is very fond of tomatoes. Schneider has a friend in 
the country who raises “garden sass, and sich. v Schneider had an 
invitation to visit his friend last week, and regale himself on his favorite 
vegetable. His friend Pfeiffer being busy negotiating with a city 
produce dealer, on his arrival, Schneider thought he would take a 
stroll in the garden, and see some of his favorites in their pristine 
beauty. We will let him tell the rest of his story in his own 
language : 

“ Veil I valks shust a liddle vhile roundt, vhen I sees some of 
dose dermarters, vot vas so red und nice as I nefer dit see any more, 
und I dinks I vill put mineself oudside about a gouple-a-tozen, shust 
to geef me a liddle abbedite vor dinner. So I bulls off von ov der 

•it i 
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reddest und pest lookin’ ov dose dermaters, und dakes a pooty good 
pite out ov dot, und vas chewing it oup pooty qvick, vhen—py 
shiminy!—I kort I had a peese of red-hot goals in mine mout, or vas 
chewing oup dwo or dree bapers of needles ; und I velt so pad, alreaty, 
dot mine eyes vas vool of tears; und I mate vor an ‘ olt oken pucket,’ 
vot I seen hangin’ in der veil, as I vas goomin’ along. 

“ Shust den mine vriend Pfeiffer game oup, und ask me vot mate 
me veel so pad, und if any of mine vamily vas dead. I dold him dot 
I vas der only von ov der vamily dot vas pooty sick ; und den I ask 
him vot kind of dermarters dose vas vot I hat shust peen bicking; und, 
mine cracious ! how dot landsman laughft, und said dot dose vas red 
beppers , dot he vas raising vor bepper-sauce. You pet my life, I vas 
mat. I radder you geef me feefty tollars as to eat some more ov 
dose bepper-sauce dermarters.” Charles F. Adams. 


BARBARA FRIETCHIE. 

Up from the meadows rich with corn 
Clear in the cool September morn, 

The clustered spires of Frederick stand 
Green-walled by the hills of Maryland. 

Round about them orchards sweep, 

Apple and peach tree fruited deep, 

Fair as a garden of the Lord 

To the eyes of the famished rebel horde. 

On that pleasant morn of the early fall 
When Lee marched over the mountain wall, 

Over the mountains, winding down, 

Horse and foot into Frederick Town, 

Forty flags with their silver stars, 

Forty flags with their crimson bars, 

Flapped in the morning wind ; the sun 
Of noon looked down, and saw not one. 


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Up rose old Barbara Frietchie then. 

Bowed with her fourscore years and ten ; 

Bravest of all in Frederick Town, 

She took up the flag the men hauled down ; 

In her attic-window the staff she set, 

To show that one heart was loyal yet. 

Up the street came the rebel tread, 
Stonewall Jackson riding ahead. 

Under his slouched hat left and right 
He glanced : the old flag met his sight., 

“ Halt !” the dust-brown ranks stood fast; 
xt Fire !” out blazed the rifle-blast! 

It shivered the window, pane and sash, 

It rent the banner with seam and gash. 

Quick, as it fell from the broken staff, 
Dame Barbara snatched the silken scarf; 

She leaned far out on the window-sill, 

And shook it forth with a royal will. 

“ Shoot, if you must, this old gray head, 
But spare your country’s flag,” she said. 

A shade of sadness, a blush of shame, 

Over the face of the leader came ; 

The nobler nature within him stirred 
To life at that woman’s deed and word: 

“ Who touches a hair of yon gray head 
D ies like a dog ! March on !” he said. 

All day long through Frederick street 
Sounded the tread of marching 1 feet. 

o 

All day long that free flag tost 
Over the heads of the rebel host. 


POPULAR RECITATIONS. 


103 


Ever its torn folds rose and fell 

On the loyal winds that loved it well ; 

And through the hill-gaps’ sunset light 

Shone over it with a warm good-night. 

Barbara Frietchie’s work is o’er, 

And the rebel rides on his raids no more. 

Honor to her! and let a tear 

Fall, for her sake, on Stonewall’s bier. 

Over Barbara Frietchie’s orave 

o 

Flag of freedom and union wave ! 

Peace, and order, and beauty draw 

Round thy symbol of light and law ; 

And ever the stars above look down 

On thy stars below in Frederick Town ! 

John Greenleaf Whittier. 

EXTRACT FROM A SERMON ON THE DEATH OF 

ABRAHAM LINCOLN. 

Republican institutions have been vindicated in this experience 
as they never were before ; and the whole history of the last four 
years, rounded up by this cruel stroke, seems, in the providence of 
God, to have been clothed now, with an illustration, with a sympathy, 
with an aptness, and with a significance, such as we never could have 
expected nor imagined. God, I think, has said, by the voice of this 
event, to all nations of the earth, “ Republican liberty, based upon 
true Christianity, is firm as the foundation of the globe.” 

Even he who now sleeps has, by this event, been clothed with 
new influence. Dead, he speaks to men who now willingly hear what 
before they refused to listen to. Now his simple and weighty words 
will be gathered like those of Washington, and your children, and 
your children’s children, shall be taught to ponder the simplicity and 
deep wisdom of utterances which, in their time, passed, in party heat, 
as idle words. Men will receive a new impulse of patriotism, for his 
sake, and will guard with zeal the whole country which he loved so 


104 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


well. I swear you on the altar of his memory to be more faithful to 
the country for which he has perished. They will, as they 
follow his hearse, swear a new hatred to that slavery against 
which he warred, and which, in vanquishing him, has made 
him a martyr and a conqueror. I swear you, by the mem¬ 
ory of this martyr, to hate slavery with an unappeasable hatred. They 
will admire and imitate the firmness of this man, his inflexible con¬ 
science for the right ; and yet his gentleness, as tender as a woman’s, 
his moderation of spirit, which not all the heat of party could inflame, 
nor all the jars and disturbances of this country shake out of its place. 
I swear you to an emulation of his justice, his moderation, and his 
mercy. 

You I can comfort; but how can I speak to that twilight million 
to whom his name was as the name of an angel of God ? There will 
be wailing in places which no minister shall be able to reach. When, 
in hovel and in cot, in wood and in wilderness, in the fields through¬ 
out the South, the dusky children, who looked upon him as that 
Moses whom God sent before them to lead them out of the land of 
bondage, learn that he has fallen, who shall comfort them ? O thou 
Shepherd of Israel, that didst comfort thy people of old, to thy care 
we commit the helpless, the long-wronged and grieved. 

And now the martyr is moving in triumphal march, mightier than 
when alive. The nation rises up at every stage of his coming. Cities 
and States are his pall-bearers, and the cannon beats the hour with 
solemn progression. Dead, dead , dead, he yet speaketh. Is Wash¬ 
ington dead? Is Hampden dead? Is David dead? Is any man 
that ever was fit to live, dead ? Disenthralled of flesh, and risen in 
the unobstructed sphere where passion never comes, he begins his 
illimitable work. His life now is grafted upon the Infinite, and will 
be fruitful as no earthly life can be. Pass on, thou that hast over¬ 
come ! 

Your sorrows, O people, are his peace ! Your bells and bands 
and muffled drums sound triumph in his ear. Wail and weep here ; 
God makes its echo joy and triumph there. Pass on ! 

Four years ago, O Illinois! we took from your midst an untried 
man, and from among the people. We return him to you a mighty 
conqueror. Not thine any more, but the nation’s; not ours, but the 
world’s. Give him place, O ye prairies ! 

In the midst of this great continent his dust shall rest, a sacred 
treasure to myriads who shall pilgrim to that shrine to kindle anew 


POPULAR RECITATIONS. 105 

their zeal and patriotism. Ye winds that move over the mighty places 
of the \\ est, chant his requiem ! Ye people, behold a martyr whose 
blood, as so many articulate words, pleads for fidelity, for law, for lib¬ 
erty ! 

Henry Ward Beecher. 


BUCK FANSHAW’S FUNERAL. 

Somebody has said that in order to know a community, one must 
observe the style of its funerals, and know what manner of men they 
bury with most ceremony. I cannot say which class we buried with 
most eclat in our “flush times,” the distinguished public benefactor or 
the distinguished rough—possibly the two chief grades or grand divi¬ 
sions of society honored their illustrious dead about equally ; and hence, 
no doubt, the philosopher I have quoted from would have needed to 
see two representative funerals in Virginia before forming his estimate 
of the people. 

There was a grand time over Buck Fanshaw when he died. He 
was a representative citizen. He had “ killed his man,” not in his own 
quarrel to be sure, but in defense of a stranger beset by numbers. 
He had kept a sumptuous saloon. He had been the proprietor of a 
dashing helpmeet, whom he could have discarded without the formality 
of a divorce. He had held a high position in the fire department, and 
had been a very Warwick in politics. When he died there was great 
lamentation throughout the town, but especially in the vast bottom 
stratum of society. 

On the inquest it was shown that Buck Fanshaw, in the delirium 
of a wasting typhoid fever, had taken arsenic, shot himself through 
the body, cut his throat, and jumped out of a four-story window and 
broken his neck, and, after due deliberation, the jury, sad and tearful, 
but with intelligence unblinded by its sorrow, brought in a verdict of 
“ Death by the visitation of Providence,” What could the world do 
without juries! 

Prodigious preparations were made for the funeral. All the 
vehicles in town were hired, all the saloons were put in mourning, all the 
municipal and fire company flags were hung at half mast, and all the 
firemen ordered to muster in uniform and bring their, machines duly 
draped in black. 



io6 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


Now—let us remark in parenthesis—as all the peoples of the earth 
had representative adventurers in the Silverland, and as each adven¬ 
turer had brought the slang of his nation or his locality with him, the 
combination made the slang- of Nevada the richest and the most infi- 
nitely varied and copious that had ever existed anywhere in the world, 
perhaps, except in the mines of California in the “early days.” Slang 
was the language of Nevada. It was hard to preach a sermon without 
it, and be understood. Such phrases as “You bet!” “Oh, no, I 
reckon not!” “No Irish need apply,” and a hundred others, became so 
common as to fall from the lips of a speaker unconsciously—and very 
often when they did not touch the subject under discussion, and conse¬ 
quently failed to mean anything. 

Regretful resolutions were passed, and various committees ap¬ 
pointed ; among others, a committee of one was deputed to call on the 
minister—a fragile, gentle, spiritual new fledgling from an Eastern 
theological seminary, and as yet unacquainted with the ways of the 
mines. The committeeman, “ Scotty ” Briggs, made his visit. 

Being admitted to his presence, he sat down before the clergyman, 
placed his fire-hat on an unfinished manuscript sermon under the min¬ 
ister’s nose, took from it a red silk handkerchief, wiped his brow, and 
heaved a sigh of dismal impressiveness, explanatory of his business. 
He choked and even shed tears, but with an effort he mastered his 
voice, and said, in lugubrious tones : 

“Are you the duck that runs the gospel-mill next door?” 

“Am I the—pardon me, I believe I do not understand.” 

With another sigh and a half sob, Scotty rejoined : 

“ Why, you see we are in a bit of trouble, and the boys thought 
maybe you’d give us a lift, if we’d tackle you, that is, if I’ve got the 
rights of it, and you’re the head clerk of the doxology works next 
door.” 

“ I am the shepherd in charge of the flock whose fold is next door.” 

“ The which ?” 

“The spiritual adviser of the little company of believers whose 
sanctuary adjoins these premises.” 

Scotty scratched his head, reflected a moment, and then said : 

“ You ruther hold over me, pard. I reckon I can’t call that card. 
Ante, and pass the buck.” 

“ How—I be r your pardon. What did I understand you to say ?’’ 

“ Well, you’ve ruther got the bulge on me. Or maybe weve both 
got the bulge, somehow. You don’t smoke me and I don’t smoke 





POPULAR RECITATIONS. 


107 


you. You see one of the boys has passed in. his checks, and we want 
to give him a good send-off, and so the thing I’m on now is to roust 
out somebody to jerk a little chin-music for us, and waltz him through 
handsome.” 

“ My friend, I seem to grow more and more bewildered. Your 
observations are wholly incomprehensible to me. Can you not sim¬ 
plify them some way? At first I thought perhaps I understood you, 
but I grope now. Would it not expedite matters if you restricted 
yourself to categorical statements of fact unencumbered with obstruct¬ 
ing accumulations of metaphor and allegory ?’’ 

Another pause and more reflection. Then Scotty said : 

“ I’ll have to pass, I judge.” 

“ How ?” 

“ You’ve raised me out, pard.” 

“ I still fail to catch your meaning.” 

“ Why, that last lead of your’n is too many for me—that’s the 
idea. I can’t neither trump nor follow suit.” 

The clergyman sank back in his chair perplexed. Scotty leaned 
his head on his hand, and gave himself up to reflection. Presently his 
face came up, sorrowful, but confident. 

“ I’ve got it now so’s you can savvy,” said he. “ What we want is 

a gospel-sharp. See ? M 

“ A what ?” 

“ Gospel-sharp—parson.” 

“ Oh! Why did you not say so before? I am a clergyman—a 
parson. 1 ’ 

<< Now you talk! You see my blind, and straddle it like a man. 
Put it there!”—extending a brawny paw, which closed over the min¬ 
ister’s small hand and gave it a shake indicative of fiaternal sympathy 
and fervent gratification. 

“ Now were all right, pard. Let’s start fresh. Don’t you mind 
me snufflino- a little, becuz we’re in a power of trouble. You see one 
of the boys has gone up the flume — 11 

“ Gone where ?” 

“ Up the flume—throw’d up the sponge, you know. ’ 

“ Thrown up the sponge ? 

“Yes—kicked the bucket—” 

“ Ah—has departed to that mysterious country from whose bourne 
no traveler returns.” 

“ Return ? Well, I reckon not. Why, pard, he’s dead /” 





io8 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


“Yes, I understand.” 

“ Oh, you do ? Well, I thought maybe you might be getting tan¬ 
gled some more. Yes, you see he’s dead again—” 

“Again ! Why, has he ever been dead before ?” 

“ Dead before? No. Do you reckon a man has got as many 
lives as a cat ? But you bet he’s awful dead now, poor old boy, and I 
wish I’d never seen this day. I don’t want no better friend than Buck 
Fanshaw. I know’d him by the back; and when I know a man like 
him, I freeze to him—you hear me. Take him all round, pard, there 
never was a bullier man in the mines. No man ever know’d Buck 
Fanshaw to go back on a friend. But it’s all up, you know ; it’s all 
up. It ain’t no use. They’ve scooped him!” 

“ Scooped him ?” 

“Yes—death has. Well, well, well, we’ve got to give him up. 
Yes, indeed. It’s a kind of hard world after all, ain’t it? But, pard, 
he was a rustler. You ought to seen him get started once. He was 
a bully boy with a glass eye! Just spit in his face, and give him room 
according to his strength, and it was just beautiful to see him peel and 
go in. He was the worst son of a thief that ever draw’d breath. 
Pard, he was on it. He was on it bigger than an Injun!” 

“ On it ? On what ?” 

“On the shoot. On the shoulder. On the fight. Understand? 
He didn’t give a continental—for #/zybody. Beg your pardon, friend, 
for coming so near saying a cuss word, but it is on account of having 
to cramp down and draw everything so mild. But we’ve got to give 
him up. There ain’t any getting around that, I don’t reckon. Now 
if we can get you to help plant him—” 

“ Preach the funeral discourse. Assist at the obsequies ?” 

“ Obs’quies is good. Yes. That’s it; that’s our little game. We 
are going to get up the thing regardless, you know. He was always 
nifty himself, and so you bet that his funeral ain’t going to be no 
slouch ; solid silver door-plate on his coffin, six plumes on the hearse, 
and a nigger on the box, with a biled shirt and a plug hat on—how’s 
that for high? And we’ll take care of you , pard. We’ll fix you all 
right. There will be a kerridge for you ; and whatever you want you 
just ’scape out, and we’ll ’tend to it. We’ve got a shebang fixed up 
for you to stand behind in No. i’s house, and don’t you be afraid. 
Just go in and toot your horn, if you don’t sell a clam. Put Buck 
through as bully as you can, pard, for anybody that know’d him will 
tell you that he was one of the whitest men that was ever in the mines. 



POPULAR RECITATIONS. 


109 


You can’t draw it too strong. He never could stand it to see things 
goin’ wrong. He’s done more to make this town peaceable than any 
man in it. I’ve seen him lick four greasers in eleven minutes, myself. 
If a thing wanted regulating, he warn’t a man to go browsing around 
after somebody to do it, but he would prance in and regulate it him¬ 
self. He warn’t a Catholic ; but it didn’t make no difference about 
that when it came down to what a man’s rights was—and so, when some 
roughs jumped the Catholic boneyard and started to stake out Town 
lots in it, he went for ’em, and he cleaned ’em, too! I was there, pard, 
and I seen it myself.” 

“ That was very well, indeed—at least the impulse was—whether 
the act was entirely defensible or not. Had deceased any religious 
convictions ? That is to say, did he feel a dependence upon, or 
acknowledge allegiance to a higher power ?” 

More reflection. 

“ I reckon you’ve stumped me again, pard. Could you say it 
over again once more, and say it slow ?” 

“Well, to simplify it somewhat, was he, or rather, had he ever 
been connected with any organization sequestered from secular con¬ 
cerns and devoted to self-sacrifice in the interests of morality ?” 

“All down but nine—set ’em up on the other alley, pard.” 

“What did I understand you to say ?” 

“ Why, you’re most too many for me, you know. When you get 
in with your left, I hunt grass every time. Every time you draw, you 
fill; but I don’t seem to have any luck. Let’s have a new deal.” 

“How? Begin again?” 

“ That’s it." 

“ Very well. Was he a good man, and— 

“ There—I see that; don’t put up another chip till I look at my 
hand. A good man, says you ? Pard, it ain’t no name for it. He 
was the best man that ever—pard, you would have doted on that man. 
He could lam any galoot of his inches in America. It was him that 
put down the riot last election before it had got a start; and every¬ 
body said that he was the only man that could ha\ e done it. He 
waltzed in with a trumpet in one hand and a spanner in the other, and 
sent fourteen men home on a shutter in less than thiee minutes. He 
had that riot all broke up and prevented nice befoie anybody had a 
chance to strike a blow. He was always for peace, and he would 
have peace—he could not stand disturbances. Paid, he was a great loss 
to this town. It would please the boy r s if y ; ou could chip in something 






I IO 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


like that and do him justice. Here once when the Micks got to throw¬ 
ing stones through the Methodist Sunday-school windows, Buck Fan- 
shaw, all of his own notion, shut up his saloon, and took a couple of 
six-shooters and mounted guard over the Sunday-school. Says he, 

‘ No Irish need apply.’ And they didn’t. He was the bulliest man 
in the mountains, pard; he could run faster, jump higher, hit harder, 
and hold more tanglefoot whisky without spilling it than any other 
man in seventeen counties. Put that in, pard; it will please the boys 
more than anything you could say. And you can say, pard, that he 
never shook his mother.” 

“ Never shook his mother ?” 

“ That’s it—any of the boys will tell you so.” 

“ Well, but why should he shake her ?” 

“That’s what I say—but some people does.” 

“ Not people of any repute ?” 

il Well, some that averages pretty so-so.” 

“ In my opinion, a man that would offer personal violence to his 
mother ought to—” 

“ Cheese it, pard; you’ve banked your ball clean outside the 
string. What I was drivin’ at was that he never throwed off on his 
mother—don’t you see ! No indeedy ! He give her a house to live 
in, and town lots, and plenty of money; and he looked after her and 
took care of her all the time; and when she was down with the small¬ 
pox, I’m cussed if he didn’t set up nights and nuss her himself! Beg 
your pardon for saying it, but it hopped out too quick for yours truly. 
You’ve treated me like a gentleman, and I ain’t the man to hurt your 
feelings intentional. I think you’re white. I think you’re a square 
man, pard. I like you, and I’ll lick any man that don’t. I’ll lick him 
till he can’t tell himself from a last year’s corpse ! Put it there ! 

[Another fraternal handshake—and exit.] 

The obsequies were all that “the boys’’ could desire. Such 
funeral pomp had never been seen in Virginia. The plumed hearse, 
the dirge-breathing brass bands, the closed marts of business, the 
flags drooping at half-mast, the long plodding processions of uniformed 
secret societies, military battalions and fire companies, draped engines, 
carriages of officials and citizens in vehicles and on foot, attracted 
multitudes of spectators to the sidewalks, roofs and windows ; and for 
years afterward, the degree of grandeur attained by any civic display 
was determined by comparison with Buck Fanshaw s funeral. 

From “Roughing It,” by Mark Twain. 





111 


V 


POPULAR RECITATIONS. 

HER LETTER. 

I’m sitting alone by the fire, 

Dressed just as I came from the dance, 

In a robe even you would admire,— 

It cost a cool thousand in France ; 

I’m bediamonded out of all reason, 

My hair is done up in a cue; 

In short, sir, “ the belle of the season ” 

Is wasting an hour on you. 

A dozen engagements I’ve broken, 

I left in the midst of a set; 

Likewise a proposal, half spoken, 

That waits—on the stairs—for me yet. 

They say he’ll be rich,—when he grows up,— 
And then he adores me indeed. 

And you, sir, are turning your nose up, 

Three thousand miles off as you read. 

“And how do I like my position ?” 

“And what do I think of New York?” 

“And now, in my higher ambition, 

With whom do I waltz, flirt or talk ?” 

“And isn’t it nice to have riches, 

And diamonds and silks, and all that ?” 

“And aren’t it a change from the ditches 
And tunnels of Poverty Flat ?” 

Well, yes,—if you saw us out driving 
Each day in the park, four-in-hand,— 

If you saw poor dear mamma contriving 
To look supernaturally grand,— 

If you saw papa’s picture as taken 
By Brady, and tinted at that,— 

You’d never suspect he’d sold bacon 
And flour at Poverty Flat. 

And yet, just this moment, when sitting 
In the glare of the grand chandelier,— 

In the bustle and glitter befitting 






\ 


I I 2 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


“ The finest soiree of the year,” 

In the mist of a gauze de Chambery , 

And the hum of the smallest of talk,— 
Somehow, Joe, I thought of “The Ferry,” 
And the dance that we had on “ The Fork.” 

Of Harrison’s barn, with its muster 
Of flags festooned over the wall ; 

Of the candles that shed their soft luster 
And tallow on headdress and shawl; 

Of the steps that we took to one fiddle; 

Of the dress of my queer vis-a-vis; 

And how I once went down the middle 
With the man that shot Sandy McGee ; 

Of the moon that was quietly sleeping 
On the hill when the time came to go ; 

Of the few baby peaks that were peeping 
From under their bedclothes of snow; 

Of that ride,—that to me was the rarest ; 

Of—the something you said at the gate,— 
Ah, Joe, then I wasn’t an heiress 

To “the best-paying lead in the State.” 

Well, well, it’s all past; yet it’s funny 
To think as I stood in the glare 
Of fashion and beauty and money, 

That I should be thinking right there, 

Of some one who breasted high water, 

And swam the North Fork and all that, 

Just to dance with old Follinsbee’s daughter, 
The lily of Poverty Flat. 

But goodness ! what nonsense I’m writing ! 

(Mamma says my taste still is low), 

Instead of my triumphs reciting, 

I’m spooning on Joseph, heigh-ho! 

And I’m to be “finished” by travel,— 
Whatever’s the meaning of that,— 

Oh ! why did papa strike pay gravel 
In drifting on Poverty Flat? 





POPULAR RECITATIONS. 


Goocl-night,—here’s the end of my paper; 

Good-night—if the longitude please,— 

For maybe while wasting my taper, 

Your sun’s climbing over the trees. 

But know if you haven’t got riches, 

And are poor, dearest Joe, and all that, 

That my heart’s somewhere there in the ditches, 
And you’ve struck it—on Poverty .Flat. 

Bret Harte. 


WIDOW MACHREE. 

i. 

Widow machree, it s no wonder you frown— 
Och hone ! widow machree, 

Faith, it ruins your looks, that same dirty 
black gown— 

Och hone ! widow machree ! 

H ow altered your air, 

With that close cap you wear— 

’Tis destroying your hair, 

Which should be flowing free : 

Be no longer a churl 
Of its black silken curl— 

Och hone ! widow machree. 


ii. 

Widow machree, now the summer is come— 
Och hone ! widow machree ! 

When everything smiles, should a beauty 
look glum ? 

Och hone ! widow machree ! 

See the birds go in pairs, 

And the rabbits and hares— 

Why, even the bears 
Now in couples agree ; 

And the mute little fish,- 

Though they can’t spake, they wish— 

Och hone ! widow machree ! 


8 








ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


114 


III. 

Widow machree, and when winter comes in— 
Och hone ! widow machree— 

To be poking the fire all alone is a sin, 

Och hone ! widow machree ! 

Sure the shovel and tongs 
To each other belongs, 

And the kettle sings songs 
Full of family glee ; 

While alone with your cup, 

Like a hermit you sup, 

Och hone ! widow machree ! 

IV. 

And how do you know, with the comforts I’ve 
towld, 

Och hone ! widow machree— 

But you’re keeping some poor fellow out in the 
cowld, 

Och hone ! widow machree ! 

With such sins on your head, 

Sure your peace would be fled ; 

Could you sleep in your bed 
Without thinking to see 
Some ghost or some sprite, 

That would wake you each night, 

Crying, “ Och hone, widow machree ! ” 

v. 

Then take my advice, darling widow machree— 
Och hone ! widow machree— 

And with my advice, faith, I wish you’d take me, 
Och hone ! widow machree ! 

You’d have me to desire 
Then to stir up the fire; 

And sure hope is no liar 
In whispering to me, 

That the ghosts would depart 
When you'd me near your heart— 

Och hone ! widow machree ! 

Samuel Lover. 






POPULAR RECITATIONS. 


11 5 

THE KILLING OL JULIUS C.TSAR “ LOCALIZED.” 

BEING THE ONLY TRUE AND RELIABLE ACCOUNT EVER PUBLISHED ; TAKEN 

FROM THE ROMAN “ DAILY EVENING FASCES,” OF THE DATE OF THAT 

TREMENDOUS OCCURRENCE. 

Nothing in the world affords a newspaper reporter so much sat¬ 
isfaction as gathering up the details of a bloody and mysterious 
murder, and writing them up with aggravating circumstantiality. He 
takes a living delight in this labor of love—for such it is to him, 
especially if he knows that all the other papers have gone to press, 
and his will be the only one that will contain the dreadful intelligence. 
A feeling of regret has often come over me that I was not reporting 
in Rome when Caesar was killed—reporting on an evening paper, and 
the only one in the city, and getting at least twelve hours ahead of the 
morning paper boys with the most magnificent “ item ” that ever fell 
to the lot of the craft. Other events have happened as startling as 
this, but none possessed so peculiarly all the characteristics of the 
favorite “ item ” of the present day, magnified into grandeur and sub¬ 
limity by the high rank, fame, and social and political standing of the 
actors in it. 

H owever, as I was not permitted to report Caesar’s assassination 
in the regular way, it has at least afforded me rare satisfaction to 
translate the following able account of it from the original Latin of 
the “Roman Daily Evening Lasces ” of that date —second edition : 

“ Our usually quiet city of Rome was thrown into a state of wild 
excitement yesterday by the occurrence of one of those bloody affrays 
which sicken the heart and fill the soul with fear, while they inspire 
all thinking men with forebodings for the future of a city where human 
life is held so cheaply, and the gravest laws are so openly set at defi¬ 
ance. As the result; of that affray, it is our painful duty, as public 
journalists, to record the death of one of our most esteemed citizens 
—a man whose name is known wherever this paper circulates, and 
whose fame it has been our pleasure and our privilege to extend, and 
also to protect from the tongue of slander and falsehood, to the best 
of our poor ability. We refer to Mr. J. Ctesar, the Emperor-elect. 

“ The facts of the case, as nearly as our reporter could determine 
them from the conflicting statements of eye-witnesses, were about as 

follows:_The affair was an election row, of course. Nine-tenths of 

the ghastly butcheries that disgrace the city nowadays grow out of 
the bickerings and jealousies and animosities engendered by these 



ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


I 16 

accursed elections. Rome would be the gainer by it if her very consta¬ 
bles were elected to serve a century; for in our experience we have 
never even been able to choose a dog-pelter without celebrating the 
event with a dozen knock-downs, and a general cramming of the station- 
house with drunken vagabonds over night. It is said that when the 
immense majoritv for Caesar at the polls in the market was declared 
the other day, and the crown was offered to that gentleman, even his 
amazing- unselfishness in refusing it three times was not sufficient to 
save him from the whispered insults of such men as Casca, of the 
Tenth Ward, and the other hirelings of the disappointed candidate, 
hailing mostly from the Eleventh and Thirteenth and other outside 
districts, who were overheard speaking ironically and contemptuously 
of Mr. Caesar’s conduct upon that occasion. 

“We are further informed that there are many among us who 
think they are justified in believing that the assassination of Julius 
Caesar was a put-up-thing—a cut-and-dried arrangement, hatched by 
Marcus Brutus and a lot of his hired roughs, and carried out only too 
faithfully according to the programme. Whether there be good 
grounds for this suspicion or not, we leave the people to judge for 
themselves, only asking that they will read the following account of 
the sad occurrence carefully and dispassionately, before they render 
that judgment. 

“ The Senate was already in session, and Csesar was coming down 
street toward the capitol, conversing with some personal friends, and 
followed as usual, by a large number of citizens. Just as he was pass¬ 
ing in front of Demosthenes and Thucydides’ drugstore, he was 
observing casually to a gentleman, who, our informant thinks, is a for¬ 
tune teller, that the Ides of March were come. The reply was, ‘Yes, 
they are come, but not gone yet.’ At this moment Artemidorus 
stepped up and passed the time of day, and asked Caesar to read a 
schedule or a tract or something of the kind, which he had brought 
for his perusal. M. Decius Brutus also said something- about an 
‘ humble suit ’ which he wanted read. Artemidorus begged that atten- 
tion might be paid to his first, because it was of personal consequence 
to Caesar. The latter replied that what concerned himself should be 
read last, or words to that effect. Artemidorus begged and beseeched 
him to read the paper instantly.* However, Caesar shook him off, and 

* Mark that: It is hinted by William Shakespeare, who saw the beginning- and the end of the 
unfortunate affray, that this “ schedule ” was simply a note discovering to Caesar that a plot was 
brewing to take his life. 





POPULAR RECITATIONS. 11 7 

refused to read any petition in the street. He then entered the capitol, 
and the crowd followed him. 

‘ About this time the following conversation was overheard, and 
we consider that, taken in connection with the events which succeeded 
it, it bears an appalling .significance : Mr. Papilius Lena remarked to 
George W. Cassius (commonly known as the 'Nobby Boy of the 
Third Ward’), a bruiser in the pay of the Opposition, that he hoped 
his enterprise to-day might thrive ; and when Cassius asked, ' What 
enterprise ?’ he only closed his left eye temporarily, and said with 
simulated indifference, 'Fare you well!’ and sauntered toward Ceesar. 
Marcus Brutus, who is suspected of being the ringleader of the band 
that killed Caesar, asked what it was that Lena had said. Cassius told 
him, and added in a low tone, ‘/ fear our purpose is discovered .’ 

“ Brutus told his wretched accomplice to keep an eye on Lena, 
and a moment after Cassius urged that lean and hungry vagrant, Casca, 
whose reputation here is none of the best, to be sudden, for he feared 
prevention. He then turned to Brutus, apparently much excited, and 
asked what should be done, and swore that either he or Caesar should 
never turn back —he would kill himself first. At this time Caesar was 
talking to some of the back-country members about the approaching 
fall elections, and paying little attention to what was going on around 
him. Billy Trebonius got into conversation with the people’s friend 
and Caesar’s—Mark Antony—and under some pretense or other got 
him away, and Brutus, Decius, Casca, Cinna, Metellus Cimber, and 
others of the gang of infamous desperadoes that infest Rome at pres¬ 
ent, closed around the doomed Caesar. Then Metellus Cimber knelt 
down and begged that his brother might be recalled from banishment, 
but Caesar rebuked him for his fawning conduct, and refused to grant 
his petition. Immediately, at Cimber’s request, first Brutus and then 
Cassius begged for the return of the banished Publius ; but Caesar 
still refused. He said he could not be moved, that he was as fixed as 
the North Star, and proceeded to speak in the most complimentary 
terms of the firmness of that star, and its steady character. Then 
he said he was like it, and he believed he was the only man in the 
country that was! therefore, since he was ‘constant that Cimber 
should be banished, he was also constant that he should stay banished, 

and he’d be hanged if he didn’t keep him so! 

“ Instantly seizing upon this shallow pietext for a fight, Cciscii 
sprang at Caesar and struck him with a dirk, Caesar grabbing him by 
the arm with his right hand, and launching a blow straight from the 





118 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


shoulder with his left, that sent the reptile bleeding to the earth. He 
then backed up against Pompey’s statue, and squared himself to receive 
his assailants. Cassius and Cimber and Cinna rushed upon him wiih 
their daggers drawn, and the former succeeded in inflicting a wound 
upon his body ; but before he could strike again, and before either of 
the others could strike at all, Caesar stretched the three miscreants at 
his feet with as many blows of his powerful fist. By this time the 
Senate was in an indescribable uproar ; the throng of citizens in the 
lobbies had blockaded the doors in their frantic efforts to escape from 
the building ; the sergeant-at-arms and his assistants were struggling 
with the as-assins ; venerable senators had cast aside their encum¬ 
bering robes, and were leaping over benches and flying down the aisles 
in wild confusion toward the shelter of the committee-rooms, and a 
thousand voices were shouting ‘ Po-lice! Po-licef in discordant tones 
that rose above the frightful din like shrieking winds above the roar¬ 
ing of the tempest. And amid it all, great Caesar stood with his back 
against the statue, like a lion at bay, and fought his assailants, weapon¬ 
less and hand to hand, with the defiant bearing and the unwavering 
courage which he had shown before on many a bloody field. Billy 
Trebonius and Caius Legarius struck him with their daggers and fell, 
as their brother-conspirators before them had fallen. But at last, 
when Csesar saw his old friend Brutus step forward, armed with a mur¬ 
derous knife, it is said he seemed utterly overpowered with grief and 
amazement, and dropping his invincible left arm by his side, he hid his 
face in the folds of his mantle, and received the treacherous blow with¬ 
out an effort to stay the hand that gave it. He only said, * Et tu 
Brute ?' and fell lifeless on the marble pavement. 

“ We learn that the coat deceased had on when he was killed was 
the same he wore in his tent on the afternoon of the day he overcame 
the Nervii, and that when it was removed from the corpse it was found 
to be cut and gashed in no less than seven different places. There 
was nothing in the pockets. It will be exhibited at the coroner’s 
inquest, and will be damning proof of the fact of the killing. These 
latter facts may be relied on, as we get them from Mark Antony, 
whose position enables him to learn every item of news connected 
with the one subject of absorbing interest of to-day. 

“ Later. —While the coroner was summoning a jury, Mark 
Antony and other friends of the late Caesar got hold of the body, 
and lugged it off to the forum, and at last accounts Antony and Brutus 
were making speeches over it, and raising such a row among the people 







POPULAR RECITATIONS. 


1 19 

that, as we go to press, the chief of police is satisfied there is going 
to be a riot, and is taking measures accordingly.” 

Mark Twain. 

THAT HIRED GIRL. 

THE CLERGYMAN’S RECEPTION ON HIS INITIAL CALL IN HIS NEW PARISH. 

When she came to work for the family on Congress street, the 
lady of the house sat down and told her that agents, book-peddlers, 
hat-rack men, picture-sellers, ash-buyers, ragmen, and all that class of 
people, must be met at the front door and coldly repulsed, and Sarah 
said she’d repulse them if she had to break every broomstick in 
Detroit. 

And she did. She threw the door open wide, bluffed right up at 
’em, and when she got through talking, the cheekiest agent was only 
too glad to leave. It got so after awhile that peddlers marked that 
house, and the door-bell never rang except for company. 

The other day as the girl of the house was wiping off the spoons, 
the bell rang. She hastened to the door, expecting to see a lady, but 
her eyes encountered a slim man dressed in black and wearing a white 
necktie. He was the new minister, and was going around to get ac¬ 
quainted with the members of his flock, but Sarah wasn’t expected to 
know this. 

“ Ah—um—is—Mrs.—ah !” 

“ Git !” exclaimed Sarah, pointing to the gate. 

“ Beg pardon, but I would like to see—see— 

“Meander!” she shouted, looking around for a weapon; “we 
don’t want any flour-sifters here !” 

“You’re mistaken,” he replied, smiling blandly. “I called to—” 

“ Don’t want anything to keep moths away—fly !” she exclaimed, 
getting red in the face. 

“ Is the lady in ?” he inquired, trying to look over Sarah’s head. 

“Yes, the lady is in, and I’m in, and you are out !” she snapped ; 
“and now I don’t want to stand here talking to a flytrap agent any 

longer ! Come, lift your boots !” 

“ I’m not an agent,” he said, trying to smile. “ I’m the new—” 

“ Yes, I know you—you are the new man with the patent flatiron, 
but we don’t want any, and you had better,go before I call the dog !” 

“ Will you give the lady my card, and say that I called ?” 






120 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


“ No, I won’t; we are borecl to death with cards and handbills 
and circulars. Come,' I can’t stand here all day.” 

“ Didn't you know that I was a minister?” he asked as he backed 
off. 

“ No, nor I don’t know it now ; you look like the man who sold 
the woman next door a dollar chromo for eighteen shillings.” 

“ But here is my card.” 

“ I don’t care for cards, I tell you ! If you leave that gate open 
I will have to fling a flower pot at you !” 

“ I will call again,” he said, as he went through the gate. 

“ It won’t do any good !” she shouted after him ; a we don’t want 
no prepared food for infants—no piano music—no stuffed birds ! I 
know the policeman on this beat, and if you come around here again, 
he’ll soon find out whether you are a confidence man or a vagrant !’’ 

And she took unusual care to lock the door. 

Detroit Free Press. 

THE DIFFICULTY OF RHYMING 

We parted by the gate in June, 

That soft and balmy month, 

Beneath the sweetly beaming moon, 

And (wunth—hunth—sunth—bunth—I can’t find a 
rhyme to month). 

Years were to pass ere we should meet ; 

A wide and yawning gulf 

Divides me from my love so sweet, 

While (ulf—sulf—dulf—mulf—stuck again ; I can’t 
get any rhyme to gulf. I’m in a gulf myself). 

Oh, how I dreaded in my soul 
To part from my sweet nymph, 

While years should their long seasons roll 

Before (hymph—dymph—symph—I guess I’ll have 
to let it go at that). 

Beneath my fortune’s stern decree 
My lonely spirit sunk, 

For I a weary soul should be, 

And a (hunk—dunk—runk—skunk—that will never 
do in the world). 

















POPULAR RECITATIONS. 


I 2 I 


She buried her dear lovely face 
Within her azure scarf, 

She knew I’d take the wretchedness, 

As well as (parf—sarf—darf—harf-and-harf—that 
wont answer, either). 

Oh, I had loved her many years, 

I loved her for herself; 

I loved her for her tender fears, 

And also for her (welf—nelf—helf—pelf—no, no ; 
not for her pelf). 

I took between my hands her head, 

How sweet her lips did pouch ! 

I kissed her lovingly and said— 

(Bouch—mouch—louch—ouch—not a bit of it ; did 

I say ouch /) 


I sorrowfully wrung her hand, 

My tears they did escape, 

My sorrow I could not command, 

And I was but a (sape—dape—fape—ape ; well, per¬ 
haps I did feel like an ape). 

I gave to her a fond adieu, 

Sweet pupil of love’s school, 

I told her I would e’er be true, 

And always be a (dool—sool—mool—fool ; since I 
come to think of it, I was a fool, for she fell in love with another fel¬ 
low before I was gone a month). Anonymous. 


THE BATTLE OF LIMERICK. 

Ye genii of the nation, 

Who look with veneration, 

And Ireland’s desolation onsaysingly deplore, 
Ye sons of Gineral Jackson, 

Who thrample on the Saxon, 

Attend to the transaction upon Shannon shore. 

















122 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


When William, Duke of Schumbug, 

A tyrant and a humbug, 

With cannon and with thunder on our city bore, 

Our fortitude and valliance 
Insthructed his battalions, 

To rispict the galliant Irish upon Shannon shore. 

Since that capitulation, 

No city in the nation 

So grand a reputation could boast before, 

As Limerick prodigious, 

That stands with quays and bridges, 

And ships up to the windies of the Shannon shore* 

A chief of ancient line, 

’Tis William Smith O’Brine, 

Riprisints this darling Limerick this ten years or more ; 
Oh, the Saxons can’t endure 
To see him on the dure, 

And thrimble at the Cicero from Shannon shore, 

Th is valiant son of Mars 
Had been to visit Par’s, 

That land of revolution, that grows the tricolor ; 

And to welcome his return 
From pilgrimages furren, 

We invited him to tay on Shannon shore. 

Then we summoned to our board 
Young Meagher of the sword ; 

Tis he will sheathe that battle axe in Saxon gore ; 

And Mitchil of Belfast 
We bade to our repast, 

To dthrink a dish of coffee on the Shannon shore. 

Convaniently to hould 
These patriots so bould, 

We took the opportunity of Tim Doolan’s store ; 

And with ornamints and banners 
(As becomes gintale good manners) 

We made the loveliest tay-room upon the Shannon shore. 



POPULAR RECITATIONS. 


’Twoulcl benefit your sowls 
To see the butthered rowls, 

The sugar-tongs and sandwidges and craiin gaylore, 
And the muffins and the crumpets, 

And the band of harps and thrumpets, 

To celebrate the svvorry upon Shannon shore. 

Sure the imperor of Bohay 
Would be proud to dthrink the tay 
That Misthress Biddy Rooney for O’Brine did pour ; 
And, since the days of Strongbow, 

There never was such Cono-o— 

Mitchil clthrank six quarts of it—by Shannon shore. 

But Clarendon and Corry 
Connellan beheld this sworry 
With rage and immulation in their black heart’s core ; 
And they hired a gang of ruffins 
To interrupt the muffins, 

And the fragrance of the Congo on the Shannon shore. 

When full of tay and cake, 

O’Brine began to spake, 

But juice a one could hear him, for a sudden roar 
Of a ragamuffin rout 
Began to yell and shout, 

And frighten the propriety of Shannon shore. 

As Smith O’Brine harangued, 

They batthered and they banged ; 

Tim Doolan’s doors and windies down they tore ; 

They smashed the lovely windies 
(H ung with muslin from the Indies), 

Purshuing of their shindies upon Shannon shore. 

With throwing of brickbats, 

Drowned puppies and dead rats, 

These ruffin democrats themselves did lower ; 

Tin kettles, rotten eggs, 

Cabbage-stalks and wooden legs, 

They flung among the patriots of Shannon shore. 




124 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


Oh, the girls began to scrame, 

And upset the milk and crame ; 

And the honorable jintlemin they cursed and swore ; 

And Mitchil of Belfast, 

’Twas he that looked aghast, 

When they roasted him in effigy by Shannon shore. 

Oh, the lovely tay was spilt 
On that day of Ireland’s guilt ; 

Says Jack Mitchil, “ I am kilt! Boys, where’s the back door ? 
’Tis a national disgrace ; 

Let me go and veil me face ! ” 

And he boulted with quick pace from the Shannon shore. 

“ Cut down the bloody horde ! ” 

Says Meagher of the sword, 

“ This conduct would disgrace any blackamoor ; ” 

But millions were arrayed, 

So he shaythed his battle-blade, 

Rethraiting undismayed from the Shannon shore. 

Immortal Smith O’Brine 
Was raging like a line ; 

’Twould have done your sowl good to have heard him roar ; 
In his glory he arose, 

And he rushed upon his foes, 

But they hit him on the nose by the Shannon shore. 

Then the futt and the dthragoons 
In squadrons and platoons, 

With their music playing chunes, down upon us bore ; 

And they bate the rattatoo, 

And the Peelers came in view, 

And ended the shaloo on the Shannon shore. 

William Makepeace Thackeray. 


MARY’S LITTLE LAMB. 

The following is the Chinese version of Mary and her lamb : 

Was gal named Moll had lamb, 

Plea all samee white snow, 




POPULAR RECITATIONS. 125 

Evly place Moll gall walkee, 

Ba ba hoppee long too. 

We heard a son of Erin trying to surround Mary and her little 
lamb the other day, and this'is the way he understood it: 

Begorry, Mary had a little shape, 

And the wool was white intoirly ; 

An’ wherever Mary wud sthir her sthumps, 

The young shape would follow her complately. 

So celebrated a poem should have a French version : 

La petite Marie had le jeune muttong, 

Ze wool was blanchee as ze snow; 

And everywhere la belle Marie went, 

Le jeune muttong was sure to go. 

Oui, Monsieur ; you avez un very large imagination; mais com¬ 
ment est this, pour Deutsche : 

Dot Mary haf got ein leedle schaf ; 

Mit hair yust like some vool ; 

Und all der place dot gal did vent, 

Dot schaf go like ein fool. 

We inscribe the following version to the dear girls of Boston : 

Tradition testifies, and history verifies the testimony, 
that one Mary was at one time possessed of a 
youthful member of the genus sheep, 
Whose excellence of blood and neatness of manner 
' rendered his, or her, exterior fringe as beautifully 
translucent as the driven, beautiful snow ; 

And it is stated in the most authentic manner (pp. 2 and 3, 
vol. 1, Nursery Rhymes, q. v.) that nowhere did the 
charming little lady(probably a Boston girl)perambulate, 

But the aforementioned quadrupedal vertebrate 
did with alacrity approximate thither. 




SPEECHES. 


A speech should be short and to the point. Remember that 
brevity is the soul of—a speech. A long speech, unless the speaker 
be exceptionally eloquent, or the occasion exceptionally mandatory, is 
one of the greatest of possible inflictions. Some men love to hear 
themselves talk, and, quite oblivious of the feelings of their listeners, 
continue to drone out labored sentences and weary platitudes until 
politely coughed or buzzed down. These men ought to be indicted 
as nuisances. 

The specimen speeches which we present in this work, are 
merely meant to act as guides. They show the form of speech most 
popular, and give the length that is likely to be received with approval. 
Of course there are occasions when a long speech is absolutely neces¬ 
sary. The toasts and sentiments embrace all subjects, and are suited 
to occasions of a festive character. 

A PUBLIC OFFICER, ON RETIRING, IS PRESENTED WITH A 

SOUVENIR. 

Sir: Your friends—and their name is legion—cannot permit you 
to retire into private life without a direct expression of their esteem 
and regard. I am desired on their part to present you with the 

accompanying.as a very slight token of their appreciation of 

so admirable an officer, so good a citizen, and so perfect a gentleman. 


REPLY. 

Sir: To have won your approval, and that of your friends you 

so kindly represent, is indeed sweeter to me than anything else that 

life, with all its prizes, could offer. I am bold enough to say that I 

have endeavored to win the good will of my fellow-citizens of all 

126 






MR. CIIAUNCEY M. DEPEW. 





















SPEECHES. 


127 


grades and classes, but I am modest enough to assure you this gracious, 
superb and totally unexpected offering so completely affects me, as 
to leave me poor in speech, but rich in thankfulness and gratitude. 
My children and children’s children shall treasure this souvenir, as the 
prize won in the big fight by at least the honest efforts of their sire. 

THE LADIES. 

Where is the man who, upon one occasion or another, has not 
been called upon to respond to the toast of “The Ladies?’ 1 The 
following will enable the bashful youth to train his ideas in regard to 
the subject, and to prepare him with a reply when the mine shall have 
been sprung upon him. A ready response to this most popular of all 
toasts is as necessary as it is graceful and manly; so let there be no 
hemming or hawing, no hesitations, stutterings or stammerings, but 
start to your feet at once and dash into the subject as though you 
were enchanted at the privilege. 

Mr. President and Gentlemen : 

The high, the glorious privilege has been accorded me of reply¬ 
ing to the toast of “The Ladies. 11 You could not have selected a 
better man. Impossible! This you will say is rather cheeky of me ; 
but when I tell you that there breathes not a man who reveres, loves, 
and adores the sex as much as I do, I ask you in all honesty could the 
chance of replying to the toast have fallen upon more deserving 
shoulders? The ladies, God bless them ! what would we do without 
them—that nearer, clearer, dearer heaven of stars ! In their smiles 
lie our sunshine, in their tears our anguish, in their beauty our heart¬ 
aches. To the ladies we owe all the refining influences of our lives. 
They are the bright flowers by the wayside, the quite too too tenderly 
utter beings, who make, mar, and marry us. 

Then here, gentlemen, is my response to the toast of The Ladies. 
May they ever shine like stars in our firmament, never cease to capti¬ 
vate us, and, when we deserve it, rewarding us. The ladies, God 
bless them ! 

ANOTHER REPLY. 

The toast to which I have the honor of responding is one that 
awakes in the manly heart the latent chivalry of manhood. The 
toast of The Ladies embraces womanhood, the mother, the wife, the 
daughter, the sister, and if you will, gentlemen, the cousins and the 
aunts. Sir Walter Scott has beautifully written : 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


I 28 


“O woman ! in our hours of ease, 

Uncertain, coy, and hard to please, 

And variable as the shade 

By the light quivering aspen made ; 

When pain and anguish rack the brow, 

A ministering angel thou !” 

What an admirable delineation of woman's character! In our hours 
of ease, on the stoop, or by the stove, there is no doubt of it, gentle¬ 
men, that she is uncertain, extremely coy, and infernally hard to 
please—I mean at times—-while as for her variability, she is as whirly- 
giggy as a weathercock on a windy March morning. But here is the 
other side of the shield, the silver one. Have any of you ever been ill ? 
Have any of you ever been smitten to the earth with grief or misfor¬ 
tune ? I hope not; but if such has been your bitter experience, turn 
back on your memories for the tender sympathy, the unfailing devo¬ 
tion, the ceaseless graciousness of woman. Gentlemen, this is a theme 
upon which, like the brook, I could “ run on forever yet, delightful 
as it is, time flies, and perhaps the time that I am spending in reply 
to the toast of “ The Ladies, 1 ’ could be far better spent in their com¬ 
pany. Gentlemen, I return you my most heartfelt thanks for being 
called upon by you to reply to such an important and gracious toast. 

PRESENTATION OF A PIECE OF PLATE TO A PUBLIC OFFICIAL. 

Sir : It affords me an intense pleasure to represent a committee, 
who in turn represent your numerous friends and admirers, and on their 

behalf to present you with this.as a very slight token of their 

appreciation of the admirable and praiseworthy manner in which you 
have discharged the enormous and responsible duties appertaining to 
your position. Your high character, integrity and zeal have not only 
won the esteem and confidence of your friends, and those brought into 
immediate contact with you, but have radiated far and wide, so that 
you have reached the position—one that is not only a credit to your¬ 
self, but to the country at large. 

That you may long continue in the service which you so admi¬ 
rably adorn is the wish of the many to whom your virtues are as house¬ 
hold words. With this souvenir let me, on the part of those whom I 
represent, wish you health, happiness, and prosperity. 

REPLY. 

Mr. - and Gentlemen : 

I need hardly say with what gratitude I accept this splendid gift 
—a gift which is dearer to me than all the “ gold of Ind,” since it 








SPEECHES. 129 

4 

comes from a set of friends whose indorsement on a bad bill no amount 
of treasure could purchase. 

Gentlemen, my aim in life has been to do what is right, to labor 
with earnestness, to win on my merits. My efforts have been 
crowned with success, and in this superb souvenir I recognize my 
crown of victory. 

Gentlemen, your too flattering recognition will but serve as a 
greater impetus to exertion, and, rest assured that no effort on my 
part shall be wanting to repay in the fullest measure of my capacity 
the compliment it has pleased you this day to bestow upon me. 

PRESENTATION TO A TEACHER BY THE YOUNG LADY PUPILS. 

Dear Teacher : 

It devolves upon me to offer you, in the name of the young ladies 
of this school, a slight token of our esteem and regard. To myself 
it is a source of immense pleasure to be made their mouth-piece on 
this occasion, since my sincere delight may make some amends for my 
many shortcomings. I am not now addressing you as our teacher, 
but as our friend, our dear, trusted, and very much tried friend ; for 
how often have we not tried your temper and your forbearance! 
Dear .teacher, we will ever keep your image enshrined in our hearts, 
and shall look back to the school, not as an abode of penance, but 
rather of pleasure, since your kindness and your amiability have so 
rendered it—our studies having been illuminated by your patient 
graciousness. The little gift we offer you is of no intrinsic value, but it 
is rich in love, and gratitude, and respect. Please accept it, and with 
our united hopes that your life will ever be as happy as you have 
made ours. 

REPLY. 

My Dear Pupils: 

I find that’ my heart is so anxious to speak that it has almost 
paralyzed my lips. Yes, it is indeed my heart that returns thanks to 
yours, for I know how pure, gentle, generous, strong and true your 
hearts are, and my heart says to yours, “ Oh, how deeply grateful I 
am for this tender mark of your affection!” My dear pupils, if you 
have been a little inclined to—what shall I call it ? not idleness—no, 

n o_well, a word from me ever brought you back from the plucking 

of the flowers of fancy, and a rebuke was but a reminder that you 
should tread the path of study for yet a little while. My life has been 
rendered doubly pleasant in the sunshine of your youth, and that I 


9 




130 ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 

shall hold a place in your esteem and affection is indeed a delightful 
reward. That I thank you for your gift, it is needless to say. Ah! 
would that one spark of eloquence of some of the masters over whom 
we have studied together were given to me now, to let you know what 
I feel on this occasion, which shall ever be remembered as one of the 
brightest resting-places in my journey through life. 

A BACHELOR. 

Ladies and Gentlemen: 

It seems rather hard that I, an unfortunate bachelor, should be 
singled out to reply to this toast. Surely the misfortune of being 
unable to meet a fair one to share my lot ought to have won your 
sympathy, and to have left me unnoticed save by what the poets are 
pleased to term the “ passing tribute of a sigh.” 

Ladies, it is no fault of mine that I am unmated. I detest, abhor, 
loathe bachelorhood—would that I could find stronger terms of detes- 
tation—and if Fate, Kismet, Destiny, call it what you will, were to 
place some charming, blushing maiden, such as I see around this board 
to-night, in my path, I would consider myself the most blessed of 
human mortals. What more contemptible being than the old bache¬ 
lor! who so lonely, who so uncared for, whoso infamously selfish! Of 
course, ladies, I allude to those cravens who have feared to risk their 
fate on that sweet small word “Yes.” I must myself confess to a 
certain cowardice^ and, with Sir Walter Raleigh, exclaim, “ Fain would 
I climb, but that I fear to fall.” Oh, if some fair lady would but say, 
“If thy heart fail thee, do not climb at all!” That I live in hope, 
white-blossomed Hope, I do not deny, and whatever be my fate now, 
in the presence of such charming and beautiful witnesses, I denounce 
bachelorhood, and despise the bachelor. 

4 

THE HOST. 

Ge 7 itlemen : 

Fill your glasses till the beaded bubbles at the brim topple over. 
This is a toast that to honor is a sacred duty. I give you the health 
of our host—God bless him! 

REPLY. 

Gentlemen : 

I thank you most heartily for the manner in which you have 
drank the toast of my health. I assure you from my heart that I 
never feel so happy as when I see myself surrounded by my friends, and 
to behold one’s friends enjoying themselves is a sight fit for the gods. 





SPEECHES. 


!3 1 

In the battleof life, which we are all compelled to fight, it becomes 
necessary to halt occasionally, stop by the wayside, and refresh. This 
brief snatching of pleasure at its best, makes ns all feel that there is 
something worth living for, and that life without friends would indeed 
be but a dismal blank. I again thank you for your gracious good 
fellowship, and promise you that no effort shall be wanting on my 
part to enable you to propose the same toast, under the same circum¬ 
stances, again, again, and yet again. 

A DISTINGUISHED GUEST. 

Gentlemen : 

A duty, and a most pleasant one, devolves upon me of propos¬ 
ing the health of a very distinguished gentleman who has honored us 

with his presence this evening. Mr.-has done us the very great 

favor of joining our circle, and we feel the most intense pleasure in 
doing honor to a citizen who has so justly elevated himself in the 

opinions and good wishes of his fellow-countrymen. Were Mr.- 

absent I could talk about him for “a long hour by Shrewsbury clock,” 
but as he is present I will endeavor to spare his blushes, and come at 
once to the drinking of his health in a bumper. Gentlemen ; long 

life, prosperity and happiness to our distinguished guest, Mr.- 

Three times three and a tiger! Take the time from me! Hip, etc. 

REPLY. 


Mr. Chair man and Gentlemen: 

Our worthy host intimated that he wished to spare my blushes. 
Now it is so long since I blushed, that I forget the sensation, but I 
declare that I could find this no occasion to blush, save for very 
pleasure, since to be thus introduced and thus toasted is indeed an 
occasion so pleasurable to me, that it shall ever remain impressed on 
the tablets of both my memory and my heart. 

It is indeed a source of intense gratification to me to find that 
my little efforts, so far as they have gone, are appreciated, and by 
gentlemen such as I see around this board. True it is that I have 
done but little ; but, gentlemen, I assure you my object is to do a 
great deal, and failing in that, I have but done my share. If, how¬ 
ever, I am to do my share in this evening’s bout, / am extremely 
grateful to our respected chairman for giving me an opportunity of 
speaking so early in the evening, as later on—well, least said soonest 

mended. 






*3* 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


WEDDING-DAY ANNIVERSARY. 

This is indeed an occasion where a speech is utterly unneces¬ 
sary, for the fact of our being here speaks so eloquently, that the 
words even of a Demosthenes or a Cicero would fall flat, stale, and 
unprofitable. 

Ladies and gentlemen, just cast a glance at that happy man, our 
host,-and that beautiful lady, our hostess. See the “heavenly assent¬ 
ing smile ” that speaks of the tenderest devotion, of a happiness those 
who wed whom they love alone can know. The sunshine of unalloyed 
felicity is a nimbus to their lives, and it is well that, as the clock strikes 
another year upon their wedded bliss, we should be here to congratu¬ 
late and say God bless them both. 

That their journey of life will be always as smooth as it is now, 
and that they may ever be protected from storm and strait, is the 
sentiment I would couple with the health of our dear friends, Mr. 
and Mrs. -, on this the anniversary of their wedding. 

REPLY. 

My Very Dear Friends : 

As a rule, no husband is perfectly safe in replying for his wife, 
since that much-to-be-respected party is usually so capable of replying 
for herself, and as on too frequent occasions, her sentiments differ a 
little from his. On this occasion, however, I reply for my dear wife, 
knowing that every word I say will be indorsed by her, and that every 
beat of her heart is in accord with mine. 

This is indeed a very joyous anniversary. It recalls the delicious 
rapture of the moment when I first could call my cherished partner 
by that sacred and endearing term of wife. It recalls the moment 
when she placed her happiness in my hands ; and, my dear friends, I 
ask of you if that smile which puckers round her mouth now, does 
not do me infinite justice ? If I have not been disappointed in her, I 
trust in God she has not been disappointed in me, and as years pass 
around, and, Darby and Joan-like, we descend the hill, may this anni¬ 
versary ever prove a resting-place for happy retrospection. 

CRYSTAL WEDDING. 

In this age of transparency, when glass has arrived at such per¬ 
fection, it behooves us upon this, the anniversary of the crystal 
wedding of our dear friends, to “hold the mirror up to nature,” and 
let them view themselves in the glass we now place before them. The 



SPEECHES. 


133 


lady smiles, as well she may, for Time’s glass has not shaken out a 
single sand, and the fifteen years that have passed since she made 
our host the happiest of men, have left scarce a trace upon her pel¬ 
lucid brow. 

The crystals which we present our dear friends upon this auspi¬ 
cious and delightful occasion are but a type of the transparency and 
brightness of their lives. May they never look on life “ as through a 
glass, darkly.” May the goblets which stand upon the festive board 
ever brim with the nectar distilled from love and harmony, and may 
these glass pitchers and bowls and decanters serve as crucibles through 
which their silver and golden anniversaries may yet be passed, and in 
this joyous and sympathetic company. 


REPLY. 


Dear Friends: 

True it is that we have been married fifteen long years, yet it 

seems to me that-is just as young, just as fresh, just as lovely as 

when, on this day fifteen years ago, I took her for better or for worse. 
Yet, dear friends, I like this celebration. It reminds us that we have 
reached one of the great resting-places on the line, and that, whilst 
we look back with intense pleasure upon our journey, we also antic¬ 
ipate a great deal more farther on the road. It is indeed a source of 
intense gratification to us to find that, after fifteen years, so many 
friends come to visit us as we rest by the wayside, bringing gifts and 
bidding us to be of good cheer. These anniversaries are a sacred 
institution, and as you were good enough to express a hope that these 
beautiful goblets might prove crucibles, let me now engage each and 
every one of you not only to our silver and gold, but to our diamond 
weddings. I now drink your healths, thanking you for my fifteen- 
year partner from the bottom of my heart. 


SILVER WEDDING. 

Ladies and Gentlemen: 

On a certain day just twenty-five years ago, a certain lady and 
gentleman entered for the race of life, and they have, I am delighted 
to declare, won the plate. Behold it ! [Points to gifts.] They have, 
to continue the parlance of the turf, run neck and neck, and come 
in to this wedding-post in the easiest of possible canters. Ladies 
and gentlemen, let us drink to the winners, and let us earnestly 
hope that they may be matched for the gold plate, and that we 
may be present when the “ little event” comes off. 



J 34 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


Ladies and gentlemen, need we say how deeply we congrat¬ 
ulate our dear friends ? Is not this occasion a lesson to maids and 
bachelors? Never were these words more applicable, “ Go and do 
likewise.” I shall conclude, for I see that you are all eager to do 
honor to my toast, by quoting Sheridan : 

“ Ah, sure a pair were never seen 

So justly formed to meet by nature.” 

Their healths—God bless them! 

GOLDEN WEDDING. 

This is indeed a grand occasion, and one which, while it brings 
joy and thankfulness to our hearts, bears with it one of the most 
beautiful and touching lessons in the book of life. 

Our respected and venerable friends have indeed reached the 
golden age of maturity. Hand in hand have they ascended the hill, 
hand in hand are they descending into the valley, a valley lighted 
with the undying and unshifting lamp of faithfulness, love and devo¬ 
tion. What a privilege for us to be here to witness this beautiful 
sight, to see the bride and bridegroom of to-day in soul, in heart, the 
bride and bridegroom of this day half a century ago ! 

Time has strewn fresh flowers in their dear old hearts ; time has 
garlanded their brows with choicest flowers ; time has but mellowed 
their affections, which, like good wine, has but improved with age. 

We have come here to felicitate them upon the fiftieth anni¬ 
versary of their marriage, to wish them many a long year yet before 
they snap the golden link that binds them together ; that their bark 
may sail upon a golden sea, and that their sunset may be golden, is 
our united sentiment. 

CONGRATULATING A CANDIDATE. 

Sir : It is not in mortals to command success, but, what is better, 
they should endeavor to deserve it. You have been successful because 
you have deserved it, and we come to exchange congratulations, since 
whilst we rejoice for you, you undoubtedly rejoice with us. We have 
won a proud victory, but much of the glory is due to our standard- 
bearer. That you will conscientiously and worthily fill the office 
which has been bestowed upon you, is beyond the region of doubt. 

We have done honor to ourselves by proposing so clear-headed 
and able a candidate, and you, sir, will do honor to us by pursuing in 


SPEECHES. 135 

your new position that pure and unsullied line of conduct which has 
this day led us to nominate you for election. 

We do not attempt to crow over the defeated candidate. We 
can afford to be magnanimous, and since we are now so worthily rep¬ 
resented, we feel assured that the enemy will regard you as the expo¬ 
nent of their opinions as much as we shall. Sir, we cordially con¬ 
gratulate you on a well-merited success, and we congratulate you, and 
congratulate the good cause. 

REPLY. 

Gentlemen: 

Deeds, not words, is my motto. That I thank you, and the 

% 

energetic workers in the good cause which has led to this triumph, a 
triumph in which I am personally interested, need scarcely be said. I 
am as yet an untried man, but it is my purpose to prove to you that 
your votes of to-day have not been thrown away, and that you have 
honored an individual who will at least endeavor to prove his gratitude 
by head, heart, and unflagging work. The good cause has indeed 
triumphed, and I pledge myself that the trust you have this day 
reposed in me shall lose nothing from being placed in my hands. I 
shall endeavor, to the best of my poor ability, to walk in the straight 
path, and to discharge the duties appertaining to my office without 
fear or favor. Once more I thank you for the high honor which you 
have done me. 


THE ART OF PAINTING ON CHINA. 


There is nothing more admirably suited for the internal deco¬ 
ration of our houses than the various productions of pottery and 
porcelain, with their brilliant surface of lustrous glaze, and their end¬ 
less possibilities of beautiful color. 

One of the many consequences of the now universal prevalence 
of machine-made articles has been to take from female hands many 
of the occupations that were formerly devoted to the beautifying of 
the home, and to giving it individuality. The spinning-wheel and 
such needlework as tapestry and embroidery furnished ladies with 
much home employment, which the machinery of modern times has 
taken away without substituting any satisfactory equivalent. The 
general revival of the art of Painting on China, that has taken 
place during the last few years, has suggested to many ladies a most 
delightful occupation, and one that is capable of being applied to a 
great variety of useful purposes. This beautiful art has the advantage 
that it 1 can be carried on in the home without inconvenience to any of 
the inmates ; and it has done much to supply that great desideratum 
—remunerative employment for ladies which can be carried on without 
loss of independehce. While referring to the Ceramic Art as 
especially suited to ladies and amateurs, we do not by any means sug¬ 
gest that it should be disdained by the professional artist. 

MATERIALS. 

The requisites for China Painting are very few, and so there is 
little to prevent any one making an attempt at the art. Besides the 
wares to paint upon, the special materials necessary are : 

Colors, brushes, mediums, glass mullers, a glass slab to grind the 

colors on, a China palette, a bridge or rest for the hand. 

136 



THE ART OF PAINTING ON CHINA. 


137 


In addition to these special requisites are the general ones which 
serve for other branches of painting—a table, desk, or easel whereon 
to rest the ware, a mahlstick, palette-knife, tracing paper, rags, etc. 

Lastly, for those who do a great deal of this work it is as well to 
get what is called a wheel for circles. This is a small circular table, 
revolving freely on an iron pivot, by means of which lines can be 
easily and truly painted round the edges of plates, or the mouldings 
of vases. 

COLORS. 

Those for overglaze painting are called enamel colors. There 
are three forms in which China colors are to be purchased ; first, when 
they are sold by weight (the French colors are made up in packets of 
rather less than a quarter of an ounce); secondly, in small glass 
bottles more finely ground than the above ; and thirdly, in collapsible 
tin tubes finely ground in fat oil of turpentine and ready for immediate 
use. 

The pigments used in China Painting are all mineral in composi¬ 
tion, it being generally the oxides of the different metals that give us 


the different colors : 

Gold producing 

Purple 

Iron 

t < 

Yellow, Red and Brown 

Platinum 

i i 

Grey 

Tin 

u 

White 

Zinc 

( ( 

Yellow 

Antimony 

(< 

Yellow 

Manganese 

u 

Purple and Brown 

Cobalt 

(( 

Blue 

U ranium 

< < 

Yellow and Brown 

Chromium 

4 4 

Green 

Iridium 

( i 

Black 


Besides these, which are of simple origin, there are many com¬ 
binations, such as cobalt and iron, producing brown and black ; tin 
and silver, modifying the purple of gold to a color resembling 

carmine. 

Particulars relating to the use of the colors will be given under 
the heads of overglaze and underglaze painting. 

BRUSHES. 

Camel-hair brushes of the best quality are generally used, but 
the sable brushes which probably the student already possesses, will 



ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


138 

do perfectly well. Some brushes of special shapes are employed : 
tracers or liners, which are small in the quill, but loner and tapering, 
and dabbers, which, on the contrary, are short and thick. 


MEDIUMS. 

The medium most commonly employed is what is known as “ fat” 
oil of turpentine. This is prepared by pouring a little turpentine into 
a saucer, and allowing the spirit to evaporate slowly. A small quan¬ 
tity is added day by day till enough of the thickened liquor has 
accumulated to fill a small bottle. In order to make this medium 
flow more freely from the brush, ordinary spirits of turpentine are 
used to dilute it. 

Spirit of tar treated in the same way makes another “fat” 
medium, which, when used, is similarly diluted with the spirit of tar 
in its ordinary condition. Though it is not difficult to prepare these 
fat oils, yet great care must be used to protect the saucer from dust, 
and, as they are not expensive, perhaps it is as well to buy them already 
prepared. As the tube colors are ground in fat oil, a little turpentine 
will be the only medium required when using the pigments in this 
form. Should it be found that the colors when mixed with either of 
these mediums dry too quickly, a single drop of essential oil of lav¬ 
ender (spike) or oil of aniseed added to the color on the palette will 
retard the drying appreciably, and will generally allow sufficient time 
to blend the colors. 

The powder colors may be used either with the mediums just 
mentioned, or with water. In the water color treatment it is necessary 
to add a little gum arabic to the colors when grinding them ; this may 
be added in a powdered state, but a thick solution is probably more 
convenient. 

GLASS MULLERS, SLAB AND PALETTE. 

It is as well to have a couple of glass mullers of different sizes 
for the purpose of grinding the powder colors. The slab on which 
the colors are ground should be of very thick plate glass. In the case 
of tube colors being used it will not be necessary to grind them with 
the mullers at all, as a palette knife will be found sufficient to do 
all that is required. 

The palette generally employed is of white earthenware, and nas 
little wells wherein to put the different colors ready for use after they 
have been ground. It is convenient to supplement the palette by a 


THE ART OF PAINTING ON CHINA. 139 

few ordinary glazed six-inch tiles. Tiles with a rim are also made 
specially for the purpose. 

THE BRIDGE OR REST. 

There are two kinds of rest for the hand employed in China 
Painting. The most usual of these is simply a flat piece of wood 
with beveled edges, about three inches wide and two feet long, which 
is fixed onto a block at each end, about two inches high. This stands 
upon a table so as to bridge over the work which is being painted, 
and can be moved about as may be needful. The other form of rest 
is little used except by professional China painters, as it is a fixture 
belonging to the painting table. A long screw is passed through one 
end of the rest and through the table itself, being held by a nut under¬ 
neath. This nut is slackened when it is desired to allow the further 
end of the rest to drop below the level of the table. 

OVERGLAZE PAINTING. 

We will first give the particulars relating to overglaze painting, as 
there is no doubt about-its being in every respect the more suited to 
beginners. The colors employed in painting over the glaze are called 
enamel colors, and the process itself is often spoken of as enamel 
painting. All the requisites for this method are to be had at the 
many shops where they profess to sell china painting materials, which 
is by no means the case with the things needed for underglaze paint¬ 
ing. There are many places in New York where overglaze paintings 
are fired, but only one for the underglaze, as far as I know. As the 
heat required for firing overglaze painting is the same as that for glass 
painting, it is not unusual for the proprietors of stained glass works 
to add the firing of china to their business. The charge for firing 
overglaze is less, and the risk of accident happening to it in the kiln 
is also considerably less. After the work has been fired once it can, 
when over the glaze, be retouched and refired any number of times. 
But perhaps the chief reason why this method is to be recommended 
to the inexperienced is the ease with which alterations, before firing, 
can be made ; indeed, if desired, the whole painting can be wiped off 
without leaving the least stain upon the china, and the work can there- 
fore be repainted till it is satisfactory. 

The subject to be painted may be traced on to the china by 
means of a hard point and the usual red or black transfer papers, the 
surface of the china having been previously painted over as thinly as 


140 ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 

# 

possible with turpentine and fat oil. Another method of transferring - 
the design to the ware, which is much used for ornamental patterns, is 
by pricking a number of holes along each side of the line of the design, 
and rubbing it all over with a piece of cottonwool charged with pow¬ 
dered charcoal. In the latter case the outline will appear in such deli¬ 
cate dotted lines as are liable to be removed by careless handling. In 
either case, to prevent this mishap, it is advisable at once to go over 
the outlines with Indian ink, or better still with smoke and turpentine. 
The smoke of an ordinary candle is collected for the purpose by hold¬ 
ing over it a spare tile or plate. This is preferable to Indian ink, as 
the latter has been sometimes found not pure enough to burn entirely 
away in the firing, 'which the smoke will certainly do. A third mate¬ 
rial with which to “ sketch in ” is lithographic chalk, which is of a 
sufficiently greasy nature to mark readily on a glazed surface without 
any preparation. It must be used lightly, as with much pressure the 
point is liable to break. As the “sketching in” will eventually dis¬ 
appear altogether, it should be kept pale in effect ; if too dark it is 
apt to mislead by the way in which it deepens the tone of any color 
that may be laid over it. 

The first difficulty that is usually felt by one accustomed only to 
water-color drawing and oil painting is owing to the very smooth sur¬ 
face of the glazed material, with its utter absence of “ tooth,” such as 
renders canvas or rough paper so pleasant to work upon. A judicious 
mixing of the medium with the pigment, and a firm handling, with 
the brush properly charged, are the means of meeting this difficulty, 
but of course the power of carrying out such recommendations can 
only be acquired by practice. Owing to the nature of the surface, and 
to the way in which the color dries, the laying of a flat background is 
by no means easy. Particular brushes, termed “ dabbers ” or “ dab¬ 
blers,” are used to, assist blending and smoothing, and several 
ingenious devices have been hit upon to obviate this acknowledged 
difficulty. 

One of these plans is to first paint over the head (or other object 
to which a background is to be added) with a composition of gum or 
size and whiting, called stopping-out mixture. The whole background, 
mixed with the usual fat oil medium, is then at once laid in with a 
large brush, the head being also completely covered with the color. 
If, when dry, the placque or vase thus painted be dipped into cold 
water it will be found that the stopping-out mixture will come away, 
leaving the space occupied by the head perfectly clear for painting upon. 




THE ART OF PAINTING ON CHINA. 


141 

Another device is to paint over the background with the medium 
only (fat oil and turpentine) and then, before it has quite dried but 
still retains a “tacky” surface, to dust it over with the pigment in 
powder ; this process is performed with a piece of cottonwool used 
as a printer’s dabber. 

It is also to be recollected that if a background does not turn 
out when fired so smooth as had been hoped, it can be retouched 
and fired again ; and it should also be borne in mind that a certain 
unevenness in a background is by no means unpleasant, suggesting 
freedom of execution, and often giving a pleasing variety of tone. 

The idea that china painting is extremely difficult, owing to the 
changes of color produced by the firing, is not without foundation, 
but is very much exaggerated; the fact being that for the most part 
in enamel painting the colors are somewhat duller before they are 
fired, but that the relation between them remains substantially the 
same. It is found much safer to use a green ready-made, than to 
attempt to mix one with blue and yellow, as the combination is apt to 
change disastrously in the firing ; this is doubtless one reason why 
there are so very many greens to choose from. 

It is advisable to thoroughly dry the work before sending it to be 
fired. This can be done by putting it in an oven or standing it before 
a fire. If much fat oil has been used, this treatment is especially 
necessary, as it tends to prevent the color bubbling or “frying” as it 
is called. The effect of this preliminary drying is sometimes to darken 
apparently the colors, and destroy their purity ; but it does not really 
have any such detrimental effect, as all traces of these alterations dis¬ 
appear in the kiln. 

GILDING. 

The term gilding is employed for the application of metals in 
their simple condition, either finely ground, or precipitated as a pow¬ 
der by means of acid solutions. Gilding, like enamel painting, is done 
over the glaze. Besides gold, silver, copper and platinum are also 
occasionally used, though all are technically included under the term 
gilding. These powdered metals are manipulated just as any other 
pigments, but after firing require to be rubbed with an agate burnisher 
to produce the metallic shine. This simple process must not be con¬ 
founded with the complicated one required to produce what is known 
as “metallic luster.” This beautiful decoration is too intricate to be 
attempted by amateurs, the results being extremely uncertain, even in 
the hands of the professional potter. The appearance produced is 


142 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


an iridiscent sheen, resulting from an extremely thin film of one of the 
metals above mentioned. This metallic luster is frequently one of 
the great beauties that give such fascination to the old Majolica ware. 

UNDERGLAZE PAINTING. 

The ware in its underglazed condition presents a dull, absorbent 
surface, and is termed biscuit {bisque). It may be any shade of color, 
from pure white to buff, grey, or brick red ; terra-cotta may be cited 
as a familiar example of biscuit ware. 

The subject may be “ sketched in” either with charcoal, lead 
pencil, or with ordinary water colors. Should it be thought better to 
trace a design onto the ware, it may be done with ordinary red trans¬ 
fer paper. The color comes off the transfer paper very easily on to 
the porous surface of the “biscuit,” so that it is best to use a worn 
piece of transfer paper, or if a new one is employed, to rub off half 
the coloring preparation. The absorbent character of the ground 
gives it a “tooth ” which renders it very pleasant for sketching upon, 
and as it is found that India-rubber or stale bread will remove lines 
not too strongly marked, it is in this respect not unlike hand-made 
drawing paper. 

The change of color of certain pigments before and after firing 
is one of the chief difficulties of underglaze painting. It requires an 
effort of memory as well as some strength of imagination to realize 
the future effect of one’s work. This difficulty is further increased by 
the fact that as the colors dry on the biscuit ware they assume a dull 
appearance, technically called “dead,” in quality as unlike as possible 
from what they will afterward become. 

Another difficulty is that alterations are only possible up to a 
certain point. Though a color after it has been painted on the ware, 
can be lightened considerably by washing it with water (or turpentine, 
as the case may be), and a clean brush, or by rubbing it with a so r t 
rag, yet it cannot be entirely removed, as it can in enamel painting, 
owing to the fact of a certain quantity always getting absorbed into 
the material itself. The forms of masses of color cannot be after¬ 
ward modified by scratching off superfluous paint, therefore great pre¬ 
cision is necessary. Underglaze painting requires throughout that 
the painter should himself know distinctly what he means to do. 
Considerably more allowance has to be made for the loss of color 
occasioned by the action of the fire than is the case in enamel paint¬ 
ing, which fact renders it more difficult to calculate as to the body of 


THE ART OF PAINTING ON CHINA, 


J 43 

pigment requisite. The colors are more apt to run, but in my opinion 
this is quite as often an advantage as a disadvantage, as it softens the 
effect, and produces an appearance of freedom of handling. 

As in enamel painting, the medium used may be fat oil and tur¬ 
pentine, or water only. The unglazed surface is so very porous that 
it is necessary to prepare it for working on either with oil or water. 
This is done by sponging over the ware with size or golden syrup 
when it is intended to paint with oil ; when water is to be the medium, 
I have found an immersion of the ware in water,'till it is nearly satu¬ 
rated, the best preparation, though some painters prefer the dry sur¬ 
face, and do not dislike its rapid absorption of the color. A little gum 
arabic should, however, be added to the colors on the palette in the 
latter case ; it may be either added as a powder or kept in solution, 
so that the brush can be dipped into it, or a little poured on to the 
palette as may be required. 

Both these methods of painting may be employed on the same 
piece ; at first painting may be done with water, and when thoroughly 
dry, a second painting may be added over the first with fat oil. Of 
course by this process there is no chance of disturbing any of the 
under painting, as the vehicles are different. The plan thus described 
often enables a painting to be satisfactorily completed under the glaze, 
which would, in the ordinary course, have been finished by a second 
painting (in enamel colors) over the glaze. The gain is a great one, 
work done entirely under the glaze being, as we have before shown, 
in every way superior. 

The selection of colors available for painting under the glaze is 
of a much more restricted character than that for enamel painting. 
The chief point to be at once noted is the absence of any positive 
red, the colors most nearly approaching it being a rose-pink and a 
claret brown. In many cases this deficiency renders unwise the 
attempt at realistic copying of natural objects, but as the colors proper 
to underglaze painting are of fine decorative quality, their use is most 
effective when restricted to a treatment somewhat conventional. 

needed for underglaze painting: 

Vandyke Brown. 

Claret Brown. 

Manganese Purple. 

Cobalt Blue. 

Ultramarine. 

Turquoise. 

Black. 


The following are all the colors 

White. 

Yellow. 

Orange. 

Light Green. 

Dark Green. 

Dove. 

Pink. 




144 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


Great care is required to keep some of these colors apart ; the 
cobalt, manganese and black, must be carefully labeled, as they are 
practically alike till they are fired. 

The manganese requires extra grinding, as it is apt to be gritty. 

The light green does not mix satisfactorily with other colors, and 
is so extremely vivid that if used at its full strength it is apt to appear 
out of tone with the rest of the work ; it should, therefore, generally 
be used in its paler tints. Cobalt is another color that should be used 
somewhat sparingly, as it is apt to fire stronger than would be expected. 
Pink also is of a powerful nature, the lightest wash of it telling 
strongly; if painted thickly it produces when fired, an intense 
crimson. 

With the exception of black and light green, which are best used 
alone, all the other colors named may be mixed either with white or 
with each other in varying proportions to produce any required tint. 
The white in underglaze painting occupies much the same position as 
Chinese White does in ordinary water color painting. It may be 
omitted altogether, or it may be used throughout, in which case it cor¬ 
responds to what is termed body color. It is best to reserve the use 
of the white pigment to the very last, when it is only employed to 
give effect to the high lights, or solidity to the petals of such flowers 
as the ox-eye daisy. In these cases it should be put on solidly with 
crisp touches ; if too much medium is employed, the white is apt to 
run on being fired. 

In laying backgrounds plenty of medium must be used, when it 
will be found that it is not so difficult to get the color tolerably flat as 
on the slippery surface of glazed ware. If dabbing is resorted to, a 
smaller dabber than that used for enamel painting will be found to 
answer best. As there is no positive underglaze red (except of a pink 
quality) we sometimes find instances in which the red is omitted alto¬ 
gether in the underglaze painting, and is added afterward in enamel 
over the glaze. I cannot say that I altogether like the combination, 
though effective examples of this method exist in Oriental and old 
Derby china. 

Manganese brown is a very useful color; it works easily, and 
makes a pleasant warm shadow in flesh painting. Manganese brown 
and blue make a good grey. 

Orange and claret brown added to the ordinary dark green render 
it a good olive green. 

When the biscuit ware is yellowish in tone, allowance must be 




4 








THE ART OF PAINTING ON CHINA. 145 

made for the modification of effect that necessarily occurs to the colors 
employed. 

As the glaze in which the biscuit ware is dipped before firing is 
mixed with water, it is found necessary, before submitting it to this 
operation, to thoroughly heat such ware as may have been painted 
with oil of turpentine so as to expel all the fatty matter. If this were 
not done, the glaze would not adhere to the painted portions of the 
ware. This preliminary process is termed “ hardening on,” the firing 
not being carried further than to impart to the ware a dull red heat. 
The glaze is of the consistency of cream, and the biscuit, when dipped 
into it, should absorb the watery part of the mixture, so as to leave 
the glaze appearing on its surface almost as a dry powder. 

Remember to keep the biscuit ware as clean as possible during 
the process of painting, and to wash all brushes carefully after use. 
If turpentine has been employed, wash the brushes afterward with 
soap and warm water, smoothing the hairs to a point before putting 
the brushes away. 


1 


10 




THE ART OF FLOWER PAINTING. 


The delightful art of painting flowers in water colors may be said 
to have existed only within the last few years. Fully as the works of 
the old masters were admired and appreciated by connoisseurs, the 
difficulties and inconveniences attending the old preparations of oil 
colors seem to have always prevented any general practice or knowl¬ 
edge of this painting; and although the invention of water-colors 
greatly facilitated the studies of the amateur, flower painting—for a 
long time esteemed a necessary part of a lady’s education—was cul¬ 
tivated merely as a means of decorating, ornamental and fancy work, 
without any attempt at imitating nature, far less pictorial com¬ 
position. 


146 




























THE ART OF FLOWER PAINTING. - 


H7 


The splendid colors of flowers and the varied and graceful forms 
of plants point them out especially as beautiful and appropriate sub¬ 
jects for pictures—interesting alike to the botanist and florist, as to the 
artist, to whom they constitute subject matter, without any of the 
inconveniences attendant on the pursuit of landscape or figure paint¬ 
ing, as they can now be easily procured at all seasons, and removed to 
the drawing-room or studio. 

ON DRAWING SINGLE FLOWERS. 

In drawing single flowers, or two or three simply grouped without 
background, the importance of copying Nature as exactly as possible, 
must be impressed on the mind of the learner. It is true that for 
pictorial purposes, Nature often may, and often should, be altered and 
adapted, judicious selections only being made from her vast stores ; 
but these liberties are for the eye, hand, and taste of experience alone ; 
the beginner must be content with endeavoring to copy, as closely as 
possible, the object of study, leaving out nothing; for, as remarked 
by one of the greatest authorities, “In the practice of drawing or 
painting from Nature, there can be no doubt that, until correctness of 
eye and obedience of hand are obtained, the closest possible, the most 
minute, imitation is the best;” and until the taste is in some degree 
formed, it is highly dangerous to attempt to generalize. “ We should 
be able to put everything we see in Nature into a picture before we 
venture to leave anything out. 1 ’ Undeterred by the apparent diffi¬ 
culty, the attempt at least must be made to represent faithfully every 
incident of outline, and every variety of shade and color, however 
minute. The effect may often be spoiled at first by the greater diffi¬ 
culty of this plan of proceeding ; but a few failures will, in all prob¬ 
ability, teach more than many apparently successful efforts. The 
student must, at first, be contented with learning only ; too great haste 
to reap the fruits, before even the seeds of success are sown, will be 
as fatal to advancement in the art of painting as in any other aim or 
pursuit in life. 

It is generally believed that considerable talent is necessary to 
make any progress in painting, but however valuable may be the higher 
qualifications of imagination in the more elevated walks of art, and 
however they may facilitate the art of depicting simple and natural 
objects, yet, to do this not only tolerably, but even well, the only 
qualifications really necessary are a correct eye, a steady hand, and a 
moderate portion of common sense ; the last being, after all, perhaps, 



14s 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


the most useful, for the two former may be not only much improved, 
but even acquired, by practice. One great and peculiar difficulty in 
representing flowers arises from their perishable nature ; they change 
so rapidly that in some instances, even while drawing the outline, the 
object of study is completely altered. On a warm day, the half-opened 
bud of a rose quickly becomes a fully expanded, or even over-blown, 
flower; on the next, the petals are, perhaps, all fallen, or .the flower 
may be withered on the stalk ; and even in cooler weather, when we 
may perhaps be fortunate enough to retain it some days in nearly the 
same form, the color may become much changed. Besides this diffi¬ 
culty, the splendor of some flowers is such that many pigments, which 
are extremely unmanageable, are for the sake of their brightness, 
pressed into service, and many troublesome means must be resorted to 
in order to realize that brilliancy which constitutes their chief 
beauty. 

For these reasons, it is better to begin by selecting specimens as 
little complicated as possible ; whilst easier to imitate, they also 
require less time, so that there is a reasonable chance of completing the 
drawing while the model retains its freshness. 

MATERIALS. 

The materials requisite for painting flowers in water-colors are 
few and simple. There is nothing so pleasant, and in every respect 
so well adapted for drawing on, as a stout drawing-paper tightly 
strained on a deal board. Indeed, for works of large size, or smaller 
ones in which backgrounds are attempted, this is indispensable. In 
first sponging this paper lightly on both sides, and then neatly pasting 
or glueing it to the board round the edges while still damp, some little 
time and nicety are required ; the beginner is, therefore, recommended 
to use, for single studies, a two or three-sheet Turnbull’s London 
board, not hot-pressed. This will answer the purpose sufficiently well 
without any trouble whatever; it is besides neat, and extremely con¬ 
venient for the portfolio. For brushes, the learner should be provided 
with two or three nicely pointed goose-quill dark sables ; a flat camel- 
hair brush in tin of moderate size, will also be found very useful. The 
following colors are necessary, as they are constantly used in the 
greater number of flowers : 

Crimson Lake, Carmine, *Pink Madder, India Red, India Yellow, 
Gamboge, "Chrome Yellow No. 1, Indigo, Cobalt, Vandyke Brown, 
Sepia, "'Chinese White. 



THE ART OF FLOWER PAINTING. 


149 


The following also, though not often required, are indispensable 
for the painting of some particular flowers ; it is, therefore, well to be 
provided with them : 

Scarlet, ?1: Lemon Yellow, *Chrome Yellow No. 3, French Blue, 
Smalt. 

Of the above colors, those marked with asterisks are better in tin 
tubes, or at least in the moist state of preparation. The others answer 
the purpose sufficiently well in the ordinary water-color cakes, which 
are in many respects more convenient. 

A little dissolved gum-arabic, or water-color megilp, and a small 
sponge, will also be found useful. 

THE PROCESS OF PAINTING. 

» 

The light best adapted for painting is that obtained from one 
window only, the student being seated so that the light may come over 
the left shoulder. If there are more windows than one in the room, it 
is desirable that the light of all but one be obscured as much as possible, 
the object of study being so placed that no light can come behind it. 

A flower having been selected as a study, it must be placed as 
naturally as possible in a vase of water. Any small-necked vessel that 
will support the subject will answer the purpose, as the flower so sus¬ 
tained is not likely to slip, or to be accidentally shaken out of its 
place. A common phial, large enough to stand steadily, answers per¬ 
fectly for this purpose ; and the beginner is recommended to study 
flowers in this manner for some time, in preference to throwing them 
loosely on the table ; as they are much less likely to droop or change 
their position, and are, therefore, more easily drawn. 

The first object now is a good outline, which here means simply 
a correct one ; and the importance of this can scarcely be overrated. 
If the learner has a good eye, there will be no greater difficulty here 
than that which a little patience will overcome ; bqt in any case the 
greatest pains must be taken to draw carefully and correctly every part 
of the flower, beginning generally in the center, particularly if it is a 
full view which is to be represented. Every petal must have its own 
complete outline, not only indicated, but carefully defined ; and let it 
not be considered that the time thus occupied is lost, for the study of 
the flower thus carefully made will impart so perfect an understanding 
of it as greatly to simplify the after process of coloring ; and any 
attempt to finish a drawing of which the outline is incorrect will be 
simply time thrown away. 


150 ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 

It were better also, both as regards improvement and accuracy, 
that the drawing should be as nearly as possible of the size of the 
natural object. A small brush, filled with a pale tint resembling the 
local color of the flower, is the best instrument with which to draw the 
outline ; but until a little practice has given ease and readiness in the 
use of the brush, a soft black lead pencil will be found more convenient, 
as the markings from this are easily effaced. Care, however, must be 
taken that the lines drawn with the pencil are so pale as to be barely 
visible; for nothing can be more disagreeable to the eye, or more 
unnatural, than a dark line, which no subsequent operation of the 
brush can efface. If the outline be too dark, it must be lightened 
with a little bread before proceeding to color. 

The learner is advised not to commence by drawing more than 
may probably be finished before leaving the study, as a flower is gen¬ 
erally far too much changed before the following day to afford an 
opportunity of its then being successfully completed. 

The outline being finished, the card must be lightly wetted in all 
parts intended to be colored, by passing the flat brush moderately full of 
water gently over it. Hard water is extremely inconvenient for painting, 
as colors do not mix readily in it. If, therefore, perfectly clear soft 
water cannot be procured, it is advisable to use boiled water. When 
quite dry, the flower should be washed smoothly over with a tint 
matching as closely as possible the lighter tones of its own local color. 
This wash should be begun at the upper left-hand side, proceeding 
quickly to the right, and downward. Beginners generally experience 
a little difficulty in this process at first; but if attention be paid to 
keeping the brush equally full of color until it is completed, the diffi¬ 
culty will be easily surmounted. 

Beginners frequently exhaust the color in the brush before filling 
it afresh ; the consequence of which is, that the new supply of color 
flows back into the former, leaving when dry, a distinct mark, which 
is not only undesirable, but impossible to be obliterated without 
sponging the whole entirely out with clean water, and recommencing. 

Fresh color must, therefore, be taken so frequently that no dif¬ 
ference can be perceived between the tint of that which flows from 
the brush, and that which is already laid on ; the large pool left when 
the wash is completed (so constantly a difficulty until dexterity in 
handling is obtained) can be best disposed of by drawing the brush 
gradually to a fine point against the extreme outline. 

When the color thus laid on is perfectly dry, the shadows must be 


THE ART OF FLOWER PAINTING. 


151 

carefully painted in, and washed, in the manner already described, pains 
being taken to match their color with that of Nature. The shadows 
generally appear, in some parts, to be insensibly lost and blended with 
the pure color of the flower. This effect may be produced by passing 
over their edges, while still wet, a clean brush, rather dryer than that 
with which they have been painted. The local color may then be 
deepened where necessary, and the darker shadows may be worked 
upon until they are of the proper depth, and finished by small touches 
wherever great nicety is required. 

A strict and constant study of Nature is the surest means 
of improvement; for it is certain that there is always much more dif¬ 
ficulty in really seeing nature as she is than in imitating what we see. 
Incessant and careful observation will reveal beauties totally unseen 
by the casual beholder, and to us, before not only invisible, but unim¬ 
agined. To the practiced and observant eye, every shade which once 
appeared but one monotonous tone of grey will contain a multitude 
of tints, each more delicately beautiful than another—a thousand gra¬ 
dations of light and shade will be discerned which were before 
invisible, and the discovery of new beauties in every part of the 
object of study will reward perseverance, and rouse to new efforts of 
imitation. 

The leaves must be executed in the same manner as the flower. 
When of a glossy surface, and therefore affording brilliant lights as 
well as shadows, they must be washed over with a very pale shade of 
cobalt and Indian red mixed, the veins only being left (if they 
appear of a very bright green), and those lights which appear abso¬ 
lutely white. When this is dry, the local color, composed of chrome 
yellow No. 1, and indigo, must be laid on carefully, the lights only 
being left. The shadows must then be painted in with the same 
color or a little gamboge, and indigo, with a very small addition of 
Indian red; then the veins, if dark, with the same color; and the 
whole finished with small touches, where necessary, as directed for the 
flowers. Some leaves are of a silvery grayish tone ; for these the 
local color must be composed of cobalt and chrome yellow No. 1, 
with an almost equal quantity of Indian red. The shadows also must 
have a less proportion of yellow than those of brighter leaves. 

With respect to the use of body-color, great diversity of opinion 
prevails among water-color painters, as may be seen by examining 
their works. The earlier artists disdained its use altogether, as being 
destructive of the delicacy and transparency peculiar to water-color 



J 5 2 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


painting ; they also regarded it as an innovation of which later artists 
avail themselves only as a resource for saving time and trouble. 
Others load the paper with it on all occasions, using it indiscriminately 
in the background, foreground, or in the objects themselves. There 
is much to be said in favor of both modes of painting; but the latter 
is capable of giving more force, and is undeniably more expeditious— 
an advantage obviously so great in painting flowers, that the learner 

is recommended never to spend 
the precious moments in en¬ 
deavoring to leave a minute light, 
which he may more 
effectively, as well as 
quickly, put in by a 
single touch of white. 
As a general rule, how¬ 
ever, it is perhaps safer 
for the student to use 
transparent colors in 
the flowers themselves, unless some great and 
obvious advantage is to be gained by the use 
of white. 

When white is used it should be the per¬ 
manent “ Chinese white,” the only preparation 
which to undoubted durability adds facility in 

working. 

In order to assist these remarks, a few 
examples will now be given of the best and 
easiest method of painting some of the flowers 
most commonly met with, and most suitable for 
representation ; but as this little treatise is 
written solely with the view of assisting be¬ 
ginners in their first efforts, it may be observed 
that the examples selected are arranged in the 
manner that will be found simplest in execution, instead of being 
placed, according to their colors, in prismatic succession. 



The “Crocus. 


THE YELLOW CROCUS. 

This flower is of a tone so deep that chrome yellow No. 3, must 
be used for the local color ; and after the shadows are finished, with a 
mixture of pink madder and a very little cobalt, it must also be glazed 
with gamboge. 







THE ART OF FLOWER PAINTING. 



1 53 

A great number of flowers are variegated with orange and yellow. 
For these, the chrome yellow No. i, should be first washed over the 
whole, and the orange parts then painted in with chrome No. 3, 
glazing the whole, when finished, with gamboge. 

For scarlet and yellow flowers, the 
chrome must be washed over the yellow parts 
only, and after the scarlet is painted the 
whole must be glazed with gamboge. 

THE POPPY. 

Very dark flowers, such as some 
poppies and hollyhocks, must be 
begun with a very pale 
wash of cold gray. In¬ 
digo, with a little crim¬ 
son lake and sepia, will be 
a convenient mixture for 
this, as the same colors, 
although in very different 
proportions, must be used for 
the local color. In laying this 
on,care must be taken to leave 
the lights clear, and if any of 
these appear quite white, they 
must also be left in the first wash 
of gray, which will itself represent 
the lesser lights. 


THE ROSE. 

The rose is an extremely difficult flower to 
paint, because, whilst itself particularly perish¬ 
able, the representation of it is equally tedious. 

The “Poppy.” The time necessary for completing the intricate 

outline often changes so completely the state of 
the flower, that it can scarcely be recognized. The student is there¬ 
fore recommended, until a little advanced, to attempt this flower only 
in the autumn, when it is much more lasting than during the heat of 
the summer weather 

H ow long soever may appear the time required to make a careful 
outline of one of these beautiful objects, the same attention and 
exactitude must be given as in drawing any other flower ; for no degree 




154 ART, society and accomplishments. 

of imagination or generalization will ever equal or even approach 
Nature; whilst any carelessness of drawing will render the coloring a 
great deal more difficult. 

o 

In pink roses, the local color is best imitated with pink madder, a 
pale tint of which must be washed over the flower, leaving only the 



The “Rose.” 


perfectly white lights. When quite dry, the darker petals must be 
again covered with a deeper hue, and again with a deeper still, the 
dark ones near the center. Sometimes the color of these, in parts, is 
extremely red; if so, a little scarlet must be washed over them first. 

The shadows must then be laid on ; but so great is the trans¬ 
parency of the petals, that very little gray will be perceived in them. 
A very small proportion of cobalt and Indian yellow must, therefore, 









I 


THE ART OF PAINTING FLOWERS. 155 

be mixed with the madder with which they are painted, and for the 
darker ones carmine only may be used. 

For dark roses, crimson lake will be found the best color, instead 
of pink madder and carmine. 

Yellow roses should be painted in the same manner, with either 
lemon yellow or chrome No. 1, for the local color, the darker shades 
of yellow being finished with gamboge. The shadows can be painted 
with the same gray as recommended for other yellow flowers—viz., 
that composed of cobalt, pink madder, and a little gamboge. 








WOMAN AT THE WORLD’S FAIR, CHICAGO, U. S. A. 


Surrounded by luxuriant shrubbery and fragrant flowers in end¬ 
less beds, and rising like a fairy palace from a sea of brilliant blossoms, 
its architectural beauties thrown out in bold relief against a back¬ 
ground of handsome oaks, we find the Woman’s Building. Standing 
in the northwestern portion of Jackson Park between the Horticul¬ 
tural Building and the Illinois State Building, and directly facing 
the great lagoon, no more desirable site for this exceedingly pretty 
building could have been selected. 

Women from all over the country were invited to submit sketches 
and plans for this Woman’s Building. The successful competitor 
was Miss Sophia G. Hayden, a graduate from the School of 
Technology, in Boston, the selection being made by Mrs. Potter 
Palmer, President of the Board of Lady Managers ; and the beautiful 
building which has been erected from Miss Hayden’s plans shows 
plainly that Mrs. Palmer’s judgment was not amiss. To Miss Hayden 
was accorded the first prize of one thousand dollars ; the second and 
third prizes being awarded respectively to Miss Lois L. Howe of 
Boston, and Miss Laura Hayes of Chicago, whose designs were 
admirable. 

The Lagoon takes the form of a bay, 400 feet in width, directly 

in front of the building, Here a grand landing and stairway lead 

156 




















MRS. POTTER PALMER, 

President of Board of Lad // Managers, World's Columbian Exposition, Chicago, U, S. .4. 











































WOMAN AT THE WORLD’S FAIR. 


1 57 


to a ctce six feet above the water. From this terrace other 
stairways lead to the grounds surrounding the building, four feet 
above. The white balustrades lining the water’s edge and the artistic 
flower beds and neatly kept shrubbery on the velvety lawns have a 
pleasing effect. 

In erecting this temple to the fair sex, the Italian renaissance 
style has been happily adopted. A center pavilion occupies the main 
position, flanked on each end with corner pavilions connected by 
open arcades in the first story, and forming a magnificent promejiade. 
A wide stairway leads to the center pavilion, which is on the first 
story, and about ten feet above the ground. Beautiful architectural 
effects have here been indulged in, the triple-arch entrance and 
elaborate bas-relief presenting a magnificent appearance. In the 
corner pavilions, which, like the main building, consist of two stories 
with a total height of sixty feet, are located the Hanging Gardens 
and the Committee Rooms of the Board of Lady Managers. A 
generous passage way with a grand width of forty feet leads us to the 
rotunda, seventy by sixty-five feet, which is capped by a highly 
ornamented glass roof. An open arcade of two stories runs around 
the entire rotunda, and the delicate design of this beautiful interior 
is well worthy of careful note. 

A model hospital and a model kindergarten occupy different 
portions of the first floor. The south pavilion is devoted to the 
retrospective exhibition, while the north is given over to reform and 
charity work. The Bureau of Information, Library and offices are 
also found on the first floor, while on the second delicately appointed 
ladies’ parlors, dressing rooms, committee rooms, etc,, are conveniently 
located, and all leading out to the grand open balcony in front. In 
the second floor of the north pavilion are found the assembly and 
club rooms, a model kitchen, refreshment room and general reception 
parlors being situated in the south pavilion. 

An air of delightful refinement pervades the whole, and the male 
sex must instinctively raise its hat on entering this chaste and charm¬ 
ing structure; conceived by a woman for women, and devoted entirely 
to their interests and handiwork. 


COSTUMES FOR FANCY BALLS DESCRIBED. 


But, what are we to wear ? This is the first exclamation on 
receipt of an invitation to a fancy ball, and it is to assist in answering 
such questions that this volume has been compiled. 

It does not purport to be an authority in the matter of costume, 
for, as a rule, the historical dresses worn on such occasions are lament¬ 
ably incorrect. Marie Stuart appears in powder; Louis XIV wears 
a beard ; and Berengaria distended drapery. No one would probably 
view the national costumes with more curiosity than the peasantry 
they are intended to portray, although certain broad characteristics of 
the several countries are maintained by fancy ball-goers. 

Several hundred characters, which a long and varied experience 
has proved to be the favorite and most effective, are here described, 
with every incidental novelty introduced of late years. A glance 
through these pages will enable readers to choose which will best suit 
them, and learn how they are to be carried out. 

Among the costumes adapted to Brunes are Africa, Arab Lady, 
Arrah-na-Pogue, Asia, Autumn, Bee, Gipsies of various kinds, the 
Bride of Abydos, Brigand’s Wife, Britannia, Buy-a-Broom, Carmen, 
Cleopatra, Colleen Bawn, Connaught Peasant, Diana, Druidess, Earth, 
Egyptian, Erin, Esmeralda, Fenella, Fire, Greek, Luti, the Indian 
Girl, Harvest, Maid of Saragossa, Maritana, Rose of Castile, and 
Zingara, together with Italian, Spanish, and Oriental dresses. 

For Fair Women, among others, the following are suitable : 
Arctic Maiden, Air, Bride of Lammermoor, Aurora, White Lady of 
Avenel, Canada, Canadian Snow Wreath, Danish Peasant, Day, Dew, 
Edith Bellender, Elaine, Fair Maid of Perth, Fairy, Flora, Gabrielle 
d’Estrees, La Belle Dame sans Merci, Marguerite in Faust, Moon¬ 
light, Norwegian costumes, Ophelia, Peace, Polish Peasant, Rainbow, 

158 






THE LAST QUADRILLE 


































































































. 




























COSTUMES FOR FANCY BALLS DESCRIBED. 


l 59 


Rowena, Sabrina, Swiss, Schneewittchen, Titania, Twilight, and 
Water-Nymphs. 

The most notable Historical Dresses described are Oueen Anne, 
Anne Boleyn, Katharine of Arragon, Catherine Howard, Catherine 
Parr, Catherine de Medici, Charles I and his Family, Madame Eliza¬ 
beth ; Elizabeth, Queen of England ; Elizabeth of York, the Georgian 
Period, the James II Period, Princess de Lamballe, Louis XIII, 
XIV, XV, XVI Periods, Marguerite de Valois, Marie Antoinette, 
Marie Stuart, the Queen’s Maries, and Philippa of Hainault. 

For Elderly Ladies the following costumes are suitable : Mrs. 
Balchristie, Griselda Oldbuck, Dowager of Brionne, My Grandmother, 
a Lady of the Olden Time, Night, Puritan, some Vandyke dresses, 
Quakeress, Mrs. Primrose, wife of the Vicar of Wakefield, Peacock, 
the Duchess of Orleans, a Maltese Faldette, Mother Hubbard, 
Mother Shipton, a Sorceress, a Gallician Matron, and some Gains¬ 
borough and Sir Joshua Reynolds’ dresses. 

Gentlemen’s Fancy Costumes are not included in this volume. 
The following can, however, with a little ingenuity be arranged at 
home: Evening dress of the future, viz., white where it is usually 
black, and vice versa , white coat and trousers, black shirt, tie, and 
collar. Debardeur : loose velvet jacket and short trousers with Mal¬ 
tese buttons, scarf around waist, and velvet cap. A clergyman desirous 
of being present might appear as a French abbe y or as a monk , in a 
long brown ample robe with wide sleeves, and a cord round the waist; 
or a Sacconi or Italian mute, in a monk’s long white calico dress, with 
cord about the waist, and a pointed cap over the head and face, having 
holes for the eyes and mouth. The tall gamekeeper in Pickwick 
requires only a brown velveteen coat and gilt buttons, corduroy 
trousers, stout gaiters, and a game-bag slung on the shoulders. An 
Irish car-driver: green coat patched, brass buttons, brocaded waist¬ 
coat, drab breeches with patches, high collar and red tie, blue darned 
stockings, leather shoes, hat trimmed with green, and sprigs of sham¬ 
rock. The Cure: a blue and white striped calico suit, with high con¬ 
ical cap. A Negro Minstrel: blackened face, wooly wig, enormous 
collar, extravagant bouquet, long-tailed coat, trousers of striped calico, 
and banjo. The tzvo Obadiahs: two people dressed alike in the above 
style. Pierrot , the French clown, large loose trousers and blouse, 
with frill at throat, made in white calico, a row of colored rosettes 
down the front, conical hat; black skull cap, face much painted. 
Sergeant Buzfuz , in a legal black robe and coif; and the Windsor 


i6o 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


uniform, with red cloth lapels and cuffs sewn on to an ordinary evening 
dress-coat—sometimes, in lieu of red cloth, light blue silk is used. 
Baker, cook, bookmaker, butler, miller, coachman, crossing-sweeper, 
also suggest themselves. 

Sisters who desire to appear in costumes which assimilate might 
choose any of the following : Apple and Pear Blossoms, Sovereign 
and Shilling, Cinderella’s two sisters, Cordelia’s sisters, Brenda and 
Minna Troil, Brunhilda and Kriemhilda, Salt and Fresh Water, the 
Roses of York and Lancaster, a Circassian Princess and Slave, Music 
and Painting, the Two Nornas, Lovebirds, Aurora and^the Hours, 
Oranges and Lemons, and Four Sisters as the Seasons. 

A Husband and Wife might select Jack and Gill, Cock and 
Hen, any Kings and Queens, a Wizard and Witch, Night and Morn¬ 
ing, or Night and Day. 

Fancy dresses are never more piquante and charming than when 
worn by children ; the several characters in the Nursery FJiymes are 
admirably adapted for them, and we have given a special selection of 
dresses for boys and girls in the Appendix, children’s fancy balls being 
on the increase. 

For Calico Balls, among others the following are recommended : 
Clairette, Fille de Madame Angot, Bo-peep, Mothers Hubbard, Bunch, 
Shipton, etc., all the several Fish-girls, the dress carried out in striped 
and plain cottons instead of woolen stuffs ; Cabaretiere, Five-o’clock- 
tea, Flower-girls, Flowers, Normandy, and most of the other peasant 
dresses; Polly-put-the-Kettle-on, My Pretty Maid, Shepherdesses, 
Poudre and Watteau costumes, Alphabet, Miss Angel, Scott’s and 
Shakspeare’s heroines, Bertrade, Bonbonniere, Queen of Butterflies, 
Buy-a-Broom, Charity Girl, Chess, La Chocolatiere, Cinderella, Colum¬ 
bine, Coming-through-the-Rye, Dresden China, Dominoes, Friquette, 
Germaine, Harvest, Incroyable, Lady-Help, Magpie, Olivia and Sophia, 
Primrose, Rainbow, and One of the Rising Generation. 

But it must be borne in mind that the word “ calico ” is of elastic 
meaning at these balls, including cotton-backed satin and cotton velvet. 
Tinsel trimmings replace gold ; ribbon is allowed ; net takes the place of 
tulle ; and very few people dream of adopting cotton gloves or mittens. 

To be properly chaiisse and gantc are difficulties at fancy balls. 
With short dresses the prettiest and most fashionable shoes are worn, 
either black with colored heels and bows, or colored shoes to match 
the dress, and embroidered, the stockings being of plain color or 
stripes. With the Vivandiere dress Wellington boots are best. 


COSTUMES FOR FANCY BALLS DESCRIBED. 


1 6 1 


To avoid glaring inconsistencies, it is well to remember that 
powder was introduced into England in J ames I’s reign, though not very 
generally worn. It attained the height of its glory in the Georgian 
period, and in 1795 fell a victim to the tax raised by Pitt on hair- 
powder ; those that wore it subsequently were called guinea-pigs, on 
account of the guinea tax. Periwigs were first mentioned in 1529. 
High-heeled shoes were not heard of till Elizabeth’s reign. 

It is uncomfortable to dance without gloves, so consistency yields 
to convenience. For most peasant dresses mittens are best; but when 
gloves are worn they should be as little conspicuous as possible. For 
the Poudre costumes, long mittens and long embroidered gloves are 
admissible. Gloves were never heard of till the 10th and 11th cen¬ 
turies, and not much worn till the 14th ; still, what can pretty Beren- 
garia do if she wishes to dance, and does not care to appear un¬ 
gloved ? 

With regard to Hair-Dressing. For classic costumes the hair is 
generally gathered together in a knot at the nape of the neck, and 
bound with a fillet, a few curls sometimes escaping at the back when 
the knot is carried higher up at the back of the head. For modern 
Greek costumes, loose curls fall over the shoulders, or the hair hangs 
in two long plaits. For Italian, the two plaits are tied with colored 
ribbon, and often entwined with coins or beads, or the plaits are 
twisted up into a coil, thrust through with pins. For an Egyptian 
costume, the hair is flat in front, with ringlets at the back. The 
Turkish women plait their hair in innumerable tresses, entwining them 
with coins or jewels ; and round flat curls appear on the side head. 
At fancy balls two long plaits are generally adopted in this character, 
but it would be more correct to add to the number. For Scotch 
dresses the hair is worn flat in front, and curled at the back ; for an 
Irish girl the hair has a coil at the nape of the neck. With regard to 
the German peasantry : About Augsburg they wear the hair flat to the 
face, and a loose chignon at the back. At Coblenz and Baden, it is 
plaited and tied with ribbons ; and near Dresden and elsewhere, where 
the peasantry sell their hair, a close-fitting cap hides all deficiencies. 
In Norway, the women wear the hair plaited and pinned close to the 
head, or allow the plaits to hang down. The Swedes turn it over a 
cushion, and let it fall in curls. The Poles dress it in two long plaits, 
the Russians braid it round the head. Marguerite, in Faust, wears 
two pendant plaits tied with ribbon. A Vivandiere has hers rolled in 
a coil, or in plaits; Britannia, floating on the shoulders, like Undine, 


162 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


Winter, Snow, Fairies, etc., but in their case it should be powdered 
with frosting, applied by shaking the powder well over, after damping 
with thin white starch. A Normandy peasant should have the hair 
flat on the forehead, and in broad looped-up plaits at the back. A 
Puritan has a close coiffure, and a coil or short chignon is best beneath 
the cap. For Ophelia, it should float on the shoulders, entwined with 
flowers. The hair is worn hanging down the back for Berengaria,Gypsy, 
Druidess, Elaine, Fairy, Fenella, Peace, Republique Francaise, etc. 

With regard to Historical Characters, up to Queen Eliza¬ 
beth’s time the hair was parted in the middle, and either allowed to 
float on the shoulders or was bound up under a coif ; Elizabeth intro¬ 
duced frizzing and padding. For Marie Stuart it should be turned 
over side-rolls, so as to fill the vacuum beneath the velvet headdress. 
During the time of the Stuarts, a crop of curls was worn over the 
forehead, and long ringlets at the back. As people desire to look 
their best at fancy balls, it is advisable to adapt the style required as 
much as possible to the usual method of dressing the front hair, 
leaving the more marked change for the back. 

With regard to Powdering, it is best, if possible, not to have 
recourse to wigs, as they are heavy and unbecoming. It is far better 
topowder the hair itself, using violet powder, and plenty of pomatum 
before applying it; it entails, however, a great deal of trouble in sub¬ 
sequently removing the powder. The head may be covered with a 
thick soap lather. The powder is applied thus : A puff well filled is 
held above the head, jerking the elbow with the other hand. The 
process should be repeated over and over again, and it is incredible 
the amount of powder that ought to be used to produce a satisfactory 
result. An easy mode of dressing the hair for powder is to part it 
across the head from ear to ear, turning the front over a high cushion, 
making the back into a long, loose chignon, with a few marteaux or 
rolled curls behind the cushion. Sometimes the roll in front is 
replaced by a series of marteaux placed diagonally. Sometimes the 
center-piece only is rolled over the cushion, with marteaux at the 
sides. Sometimes the back has four marteaux on either side, put 
diagonally, with others behind the ear, or a bunch of loose curls fall 
at the back. All this may be made easier by having false marteaux 
and curls, which have a far better effect than a wig. It is, however, 
very much the fashion to powder the hair as it is worn now, viz., with 
curls in front and a coil or twist at the back, a style which accords 
well with the dress worn when powder was in fashion. 







SPANISH GIRL 





































COSTUMES FOR FANCY BALLS DESCRIBED. 163 

The giving- of Fancy Balls requires more pre-arrangement than 
an ordinary entertainment. The men servants are often put into the 
costumes of Family Retainers of old days, the women dressed as 
waiting-maids of the 18th century ; the band also don fancy attire. 

The decorations should also be arranged with some regard to the 
many vivid colors worn by the company. Chinese lanterns hung in 
passages and balconies have a good effect, and the flowers should not 
be of too brilliant a hue ; green foliage is the best background. 

Occasionally the hostess elects that her guests shall appear in 
costumes of a particular period, and Poudre Balls find many patrons. 
Under these circumstances the lady guests only wear powder with 
ordinary evening dress, the gentlemen making no change from their 
usual attire, save perhaps that white waistcoats and buttonholes are 
enjoined. 

A marked feature at most fancy balls is a specially arranged 
quadrille. The choice is a large one. The following have from time to 
time been given:—Watteau, Poudre, Noah’s Ark, Cracker, Constella¬ 
tion, Domino, Hobby-Pforse, Seasons, Bouquet, Bird, Louis Quinze ; 
Shepherds and Shepherdesses, when both ladies and gentlemen wear 
the hair powdered and costumes associated with these characters ; a 
Louis Quinze Hunting Quadrille in the hunting dress of that period ; 
a Holbein Quadrille in the Tudor dress; a Quadrille of all Nations, 
embracing all nationalities, the ladies and gentlemen of the same 
countries dancing together, the gentlemen occasionally carrying the 
national flag; Scotch, Irish, King and Queen, Army and Navy, 
Flowers of the Year, Venetian, Vandyke, Pack of Cards, Fairy Tale, 
Joe Willett and Dolly Varden, Puritan and Cavalier. The time when 
such quadrilles are danced, and the partners, are all pre-arranged. A 
Singing Quadrille, in which the heroes and heroines of the nursery 
rhymes wear appropriate dresses and sing as they dance, is to be 
specially recommended for children’s fancy balls. Country dances are 

beincr resuscitated for costume balls ; the Maltese country dance, 

_ 

the Swedish dance, Sir Roger de Coverley, the Tempete, Morris 
dance, ribbon dance, and others. The most effective pre-arranged 
dance is a well-performed Minuet or the stately Pavane, the See-saw 
waltz, the Staffordshire jig, Le Carillon de Dunkerque, ribbon 
dance, Mazurka, Highland Schottische, a Norwegian dance, a Polo¬ 
naise in Watteau costume, or the Cachuca. At juvenile fancy balls 
dancing is not, as a rule, the sole amusement. Conjurors, Ven¬ 
triloquists, Negro Minstrels, a Punch and Judy show, and a magic 


164 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


lantern, please the little ones, but possibly nothing so much as a Horn 
of Plenty, out of which a liberal number of presents are distributed, 
or the old familiar Christmas Tree, or a Fairy Pool, where the 
children fish for presents ; and the Brandy-ball Man (one of the guests 
with a tray of sweets), who distributes goodies to the children. 

Fancy Balls are said to have been brought over to England 
by a German lady, Mrs. Teresa Cornelys, at the end of the last cen¬ 
tury, when they were held at Carlisle House, Soho. Lady Walde- 
grave, Lady Pembroke, and the Duchess of Hamilton were among 
the beauties. But then, as now, the fashions of the day asserted 
their sway in the costumes of old times. Fashionable materials are 
used, however inappropriate ; when crinoline was the mode, even the 
peasants’ dresses were slightly distended ; during the reign of the 
jersey, elastic silk served for the bodices of Gipsies, Folly, and many 
others; and material tinted with aniline dyes were used for historical 
raiment of very early periods. A march round which sometimes 
takes the form of a Polonaise, shows off the dresses. 

There is much in a name,—A Coquette, a Lady of the Past 
Century, Petite Sole a la Normandie, the Bounding Ball of Babylon, 
His Picture in Chalk, a Duchess of the Next Century, etc., have 
attracted attention to very mediocre costumes ere this. 

Any popular play or opera will be pretty sure to originate the 
most fashionable costumes of each season, or possibly some pretty 
picture. Miss Greenaway’s charming sketches suggest many of the 
quaintest dresses at children’s fancy balls ; and costumes of the early 
part of this century and the latter part of the last, are much worn, 
possibly owing to the attention now turned to what is known as artis¬ 
tic dressing. The styles of the sixteenth century,—flowing skirts, 
low, square bodices, and puffed sleeves richly broidered, owe their 
resuscitation to the same cause. 

It behooves those who really desire to look well to study what is 
individually becoming to themselves, and then to bring to bear some 
little care in the carrying out of the dresses they select, if they wish 
their costumes to be really a success. There are few occasions when 
a woman has a better opportunity of showing her charms to advan¬ 
tage than at a fancy ball. 






DUCHESS OF BlllONNE. 




































































































FANCY DRESSES DESCRIBED. 


Abigail. White silk skirt covered with green trellis work inter¬ 
spersed with flowers of all colors. Tunic turned up en lavcuse and 
lined with jonquil silk ; bodice trimmed with jonquil and dahlia color, 
and the muslin cap ; jonquil silk stockings ; dahlia shoes with buckles. 

Abruzzi Peasant. Low, white embroidered linen chemisette; 
scarlet stay bodice cut very low ; short stuff gown ; white muslin 
apron ; white lace veil fastened to the head with gold pins. Coral 
and bead ornaments. Hair worn in a coil. Suitable to a dark 
woman. 

Academical Dress. (See Portia, and Princess, Tennyson ). 
Long silk academical robe ; white* black, red or other color, plain or 
brocaded, worn over a plain skirt and bodice. Academical cap. 

Adrienne Lecouvreur. (As zoom by Madame Bernhardtl) 
Two Louis XV costumes, one with paniers and draperies of ivory 
satin and pale blue satin bordered with roses ; the other after a por¬ 
trait of Madame Pompadour, rose colored and blue satin dress, train of 
brocade, the ground silver-gray, strewn with garlands of eglantine. 

Africa. Short skirt and bodice made a la vierge of white Alge- 
rienne material, trimmed with cross-cut bands of yellow marone, or 
scarlet and green. Shoes with pointed toes. This is the ordinary 
rendering for fancy balls. The dress varies in different districts of the 
country. In some parts the women wear red cotton garments, some 
white wool, with a skull-cap formed of coins. The costume consists 
of a sleeveless tunic over another woolen tunic embroidered at edges, 
the sleeves of a lighter material than the over-dress. Scarlet sash, 
silk tassels. This is in favor for fancy balls, being of Oriental char¬ 
acter, without trousers. 

Algerian Costume. Skirt, just touching the ground, of blue 

165 



ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


166 

and gold brocade ; red and gold embroidered scarf round the waist; 
full muslin under-bodice sewn to a broad black velvet band at the 
neck ; short jacket of blue velvet elaborately embroidered in gold, 
with long hanging sleeves, tight-fitting gold under ones coming to 
wrist. Hair almost hidden by a red handkerchief, with the ends tied 
in front. 

Amazons, Queen of the. Short scarlet satin petticoat, covered 
with symbolical animals, cut out in black velvet and gold cloth, the 
edges bordered with gold cord, the bodice formed of a tiger skin ; a 
helmet on the head, a shield on the arm. 

America. Short white satin skirt, with red and blue stripes ; blue 
satin tunic, edged with silver fringe, covered with silver stars; white 
satin waistcoat ; blue satin jacket, reveres at neck, coat-tails at back 
trimmed with red and silver ; mousquetaire sleeve ; all-round collar, 
muslin tie ; blue satin high boots ; diamond ornaments ; coronet dia¬ 
mond stars, with red, white and blue ostrich feathers ; or a blue felt 
cocked hat, with white and red rosette, and bound with blue. 

Anne Boleyn. Velvet surcoat, full, touching the ground, bor¬ 
dered with jewels and ermine ; distinct front breadth or kirtle of satin 
or gold cloth, embroidered and jeweled ; long girdle of gems ; long- 
waisted bodice square-cut, worn over partlet, viz., chemisette of satin 
embroidered in gold; deep hanging, ermine-lined sleeves, over close- 
fitting ones matching the kirtle ; velvet diamond-shaped hood, often 
embroidered with jewels, forming bag at back, with triple-pointed 
coronet close to face, showing little hair ; splendid jewels. The cos¬ 
tume may be of black, purple, or ruby velvet, with white satin or 
cloth-of-gold ; blue velvet and amber satin, etc. Pointed shoes with 
diamond stars. Gold tissue cloth worn at this perio 

Argyle, Countess of. Time of the regency of Mary, Queen of 
Scots, taken from David Wilkie’s picture of John Knox preaching to 
the Lords of the Congregation, in the National Gallery, England. 
The dress can be rendered in satin brocade or velvet, with plain satin 
petticoat. The bodice and skirt are united at the back, the front is a 
distinct petticoat. The long pendant sleeves are lined with ermine, 
and are part and parcel of the slashed puffs, which are placed on the 
shoulder The bodice is half high, with wired muslin ruff ; the cuffs 
are of the same material. The headdress is lined with cream and 
bordered with pearls, a plain gauze or tulle veil falling at the back ; a 
jeweled cross hangs at the side. This is a good illustration of the 
costumes of the middle of the sixteenth century, 1547 to 1579 ; 


FANCY COSTUME-COUNTESS OF ARGYLE. 


















































FANCY DRESSES DESCRIBED. 


167 

Henry II, Francis II, Charles IX, reigning in France ; Edward VI, 
Mary, and Elizabeth in England. 

Astrology. Amber, black, and red, the most suitable colors. 
Skirt made short, of amber, red, and black satin, striped perpendic¬ 
ularly, and cabalistic signs on the amber stripes; red tunic bordered 
with amber, on which are a row of cats’ heads, the black satin studded 
with gold and silver stars. Bodice and paniers of red satin, also 
bordered with cabalistic signs; short shoulder cape of black satin ; 
black pointed cap with the same signs over powdered hair. Book and 
telescope carried in the hand. 

Austrian Peasant. A short dress of red and green woolen 
material ; the bodice low square, with long white sleeves to wrist, 
laced in front ; a kerchief beneath ; or there is a white under-bodice 
and sleeves, and a large pleated collar. The hat is high and pointed, 
with flowers at the side. In Upper Austria, on fete days, the girls 
wear a helmet-shaped headdress of gold gauze. Black velvet low, 
square, sleeveless bodice ; a red and yellow handkerchief tucked inside ; 
full white puffed sleeves to elbow. Bright colored cotton short skirt, 
boots and embroidered apron. 

Autumn. Generally a fashionable evening dress of white, brown, 
ruby, maize, old gold, or pale green silk, satin or tulle, trimmed with 
chatelaines of purple and white grapes, vine, or red-leafed Virginia 
creeper, and other shaded autumn leaves; or bouquets of poppies, 
corn flowers, convolvulus, wheat ears, barley, oats, hops, grasses, black¬ 
berries, apples, and other autumn fruits ; beehives, bees, birds, and a 
sickle are other insignia; headdress, wreath and tulle veil ; ornaments 
of dead gold, or china flowers mounted ; silk stockings to match the 
dress, and shoes with flowers ; a basket of fruit and flowers may be 
carried in hand. 

Bacchante. White tulle dress, with green satin tunic and bodice, 
fully trimmed with grapes and leaves ; leopard’s skin attached to the 
back ; wreath of grapes. Or classical dress of apple green “ Liberty” 
silk, the draperies caught up with white and purple grapes ; large 
wreath of grapes on the head ; flesh colored stockings ; the sandals 
tied with purple ribbon. 

Bee, Queen. Skirt, puffing of yellow tulle to resemble a bee¬ 
hive; small colored flounces at the hem giving an appearance of 
fullness. (Bees are dotted about the skirt.) The back of skirt to rep¬ 
resent body of insect, made in gold and brown satin, with a panel of 
sweet-smelling and honey-giving flowers at each side ; low bodice, 


i68 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


golden brown velvet over white tulle chemisette, worked in honeycomb 
edged at the neck with bees ; long transparent gauze wings fastened 
to the shoulders with jeweled bees. A bee nestling among dowers 
for headdress ; gold and striped brown stockings and shoes, with bee 
on instep. 

Bridesmaids. (. Ruddigore.) Short-waisted low silk bodices, cut 
in one, with the tunics opening in front over short skirts; sashes tied 
in front; long mittens, fastened with bows above elbow. 

Bee. Short skirt of black and yellow or yellow and brown plush 
in horizontal stripes ; black velvet bodice edged and striped with gold, 
made as a deep cuirass, or as a coat, with tails having the markings of a 
bee ; long sleeves, and gloves ; wings of yellow gauze bordered with 
gold, or of white gauze veined with gold, distended on wire attached 
to back; black velvet cap to imitate the head and antennae of the 
insect, or formed as a large bee ; black high-heeled shoes with yellow 
bows ; yellow and black striped stockings. Wasp is a similar dress, 
but the stripes are more decided. Velvet and satin or plush are suit¬ 
able materials, It is sometimes rendered with a skirt of puffed green 
tulle and bands of black velvet at intervals. 

Bo-Peep. A short skirt, bunched-up tunic, black velvet low 
bodice, laced in front with colored ribbons over white muslin, short 
sleeves; straw hat and colored ribbon streamers and flowers, some¬ 
times replaced by black cocked hat in velvet; crook, tied with bunch of 
ribbons ; a toy lamb may be carried under arm ; black shoes, colored 
heels and stockings ; large blue apron may be added ; in silk, satin, or 
cotton, with brocaded or chintz tunic. Hair powdered or not, pre¬ 
ferred. Walter Crane’s rendering of Bo-Peep is as follows : The 
bodice yellow, full and rather low in the neck, where it is gathered 
into a band ; the upper skirt of blue cotton is full and looped over a 
bright pink under skirt, which is just long enough to leave the yellow- 
clad ankles and feet clearly visible ; folded yellow waistband ; the hat 
is a Dolly Varden shape in straw, trimmed with flowers or bows, and 
tied onto the head with a piece of blue or pink ribbon ; the crook 
ornamented with a bunch of blue, pink and yellow ribbons. 

Buttercup. Yellow satin dress of brocaded gauze, the cap 
made in yellow satin with green calyx to resemble a buttercup ; black 
stockings and gloves. Or dress of tulle of a vivid yellow, showered 
with buttercups ; cuirass bodice of green satin, fringed with buttercups; 
at the right side a cluster of yellow satin ribbons. Yellow satin shoes 
and stockings ; hair studded with buttercups ; ornaments, buttercups. 


0 


y 


FANCY DRESSES DESCRIBED. 169 

Butterfly, A. Short white satin skirt, covered with clouds of 
brown, pink, and blue tulle. Flight of butterflies all over it. Wings 
of blue gauze, and the antennae in the headdress. White silk stock¬ 
ings and white shoes. Butterfly on each. 

Camille (.Le Beau Nicholas). Short skirt of crimson and yellow 
satin, striped and bordered with frilling ; yellow satin bodice with 
elbow sleeves ; white silk bibbed apron, tied beneath the puff at the 
back, and bordered with black velvet ; large Leghorn hat, with black 
velvet strings; flesh colored stockings, and white satin shoes. Or pale 
blue satin with cream lace and wreath of roses ; cream lace apron ; 
straw granny bonnet trimmed with pale blue ; mittens to match. 

Cards, Pack of. A favorite dress, carried out in varied fashion. 
Dress of yellow, claret, and blue satin or velvet, with square bodice 
and wide sleeves, bordered with hearts, spades, diamonds, and clubs. 
A coronet of same on head. The cards printed on white silk round 
skirt. 

The Queens of the several packs wear long velvet or silver 
lisse dresses of mediaeval make, with ermine and gold crowns and 
scepters; or Whitehall dresses; or quilted skirts, with velvet tunics 
and bodices, and powdered hair ; the insignias of the several suits 
appearing in velvet or jewels about the dresses, ornaments, and the 
crowns on the head. 

Catherine de Medici. Ample skirt of velvet or rich brocade, 
just touching the ground, distended with hoops, satin front breadth, 
jeweled bands of gold across. Bodice pointed at waist, seams defined 
with jewels ; low stiff ruff on wire foundation from shoulders. Sleeves 
to wrist in perpendicular puffings, full at the top, and cuff turning up¬ 
ward ; over these, gossamer sleeves from shoulders to hem of dress. 
Hair turned off face in roll ; diamond crown or coif after Marie 
Stuart order, but not so pointed. Shoes broad-toed, sewn with 
pearls. Yellow, red and black favorite colors, and rich arabesque bro¬ 
cades worn. 

Charlotte Corday (1768-1793). Short, scanty skirt of white 
muslin or gray cashmere ; a gathered flounce round. A muslin fichu 
over the short-waisted bodice, crossing in front and tied at back ; long, 
tight sleeves. Large muslin cap, which goes by her name, full crown, 
lace round, plain in front, much gathered at back ; ribbon about crown, 
bow on right side, tricolor cockade on left. Lamartine thus describes 
it: “A Normandy cap, the lace of which flapped on her cheeks, a large 
green silk ribbon pressed the cap round her brow. Her hair escaped 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


I 70 

from it on to the nape of her neck, and some curls floated down. On 
her early arrival in Paris she had a high conical hat. As a girl she 
wore dark cloth robes ; a gray felt hat turned up at the edge, and 
trimmed with ribbon.” 

Chess, Living. The several pieces in chess are sometimes thus 
represented: Pawns, young ladies in red and blue dresses a 1 'Amazon ; 
skirts and bodices trimmed with gold and silver fringe ; handsome gold 
and silver wrought helmets, with plumes, carrying spears and shields. 
Knights in complete armor, one side gold, one silver, carrying swords. 
Bishops in archepiscopal robes, with miters and crosiers. Rooks in 
gorgeous mediaeval dresses. The Castles wear towers on their heads. 
King and Queens in royal robes of satin, velvet and ermine, with 
crowns, diamonds, scepters, etc. Heralds in tabards. Chessboard 
blue and white, thirty-two feet square. 

Chocolatiere, La (. From Leotard's Picture in the Dresden 
Gallery). Short, dark-gray skirt ; white apron with bib, reaching to 
the hem of skirt; yellowish-brown velvet jacket with loose all-round 
basque ; a striped yellow and black three-cornered fichu crossed in 
front; sleeves to elbow, turned back over white under ones confined in 
a band ; close-fitting lace cap, lined with pink, having a lace puffing 
and frill at edge; tray of chocolates in hand; black, high-heeled shoes. 

Circassian. Costume of white satin embroidered with silver, 
trimmed with ermine, consisting of skirt, long bodice and under-bodice ; 
the face, all but the eyes, veiled in white muslin ; white satin Turkish 
trousers ; scarlet velvet Greek cap, with gold tassels ; gauze veil; hair in 
plaits, entwined with pearls. Gold coins admissible; dagger and pistol. 

Classic. This simple rendering of a classic gown is suited to a 
young girl of slender figure, and is not rigidly correct as the costume 
of ancient days. It can be made in soft cashmere, muslin, nun’s 
veiling, crepe, crepe de Chene, or Liberty Silk, worked in the Greek- 
key pattern with narrow Russian gold braid. 

Colleen Bawn. Dark-blue stockings, high-heeled leather shoes. 
Short, full petticoat of blue serge. Calico bodice and tunic pinned 
back kirtle fashion, of blue and white stripes, showing white under¬ 
bodice ; sleeves tight to elbow. Sometimes the bodice is also blue 
serge laced with red. Black velvet and cross round neck ; hair quite 
smooth, twisted in coil at back. A red handkerchief tied under chin 
may be worn. Red cloak with hood. 

Dancing G rl. Three skirts ; first, pale blue satin with wide 
border of gold, the second cerise satin, the third soft cream silk, with 


FANCY DRESSES DESCRIBED. 


171 


medallions and gold fringe ; sash tied loosely ; bodice of cream silk, 
fastened round throat with gold band ; gold waistband and black velvet 
zouave jacket embroidered in gold and fringed with sequins; gold 
arrow in hair ; gay-colored silk handkerchief twisted round head, with 
sequins ; coral and gold ornaments ; fan formed of cards, hanging as 
chatelaine ; tambourine with gay ribbons. 

Desdemona. White satin skirt, with overdress and train of silver 
tissue ; silver cloth stomacher worked in pearls ; satin sleeves puffed to 
wrist, pendant gauze sleeves from armhole; pearl girdle with tassels; 
silver aumoniere and round feather fan at side ; pearl fillet on head, 
with silver coronet. Also pointed bodice, flowing skirt, sleeves puffed at 
the shoulders, and trimmed with pearls ; closely dressed hair with 
pearls entwined ; the soft dove colored velvet robe showing an under¬ 
skirt of blue. 

Directoire, 1795, Costume of. This is a favorite style of dress 
at fancy balls, and admits of many good combinations of color. After 
the great revolution toward the close of the last century, women 
launched into all kinds of eccentricities. Wonderful headdresses were 
originated. The bonnets stood up boldly from the face, like a spoon. 
There was the bonnet ala folle , with a tricolored butterfly bow at the 
top ; and the casque hat, round without brim, worn over a Charlotte 
Corday cap. The hair beneath was inflated with steam. The fol¬ 
lowing are dresses in the Directoire style: Skirt of striped silk with 
one deep flounce; green pelisse scolloped at the edge, double-breasted, 
having pink cuffs and reveres, and a double row of buttons to waist; 
ruffles and large jabot of crepe lisse and lace; large hat and feather ; 
riding whip in hand; eyeglass. White satin dress, with paniers 
formed of loops of ribbon, with two pink satin belts, fastened with 
an enamel buckle; plaited lawn fichu; long Suede mittens; white 
satin train mounted in box-pleats, lined with pink satin. Another: 
Long skirt with very short-waisted bodice, the girdle coming from be¬ 
neath low bodice; short sleeves; long gloves; scant, round, brimless 
high hat, with flowers at top of crown. Another : White satin skirt 
trimmed with rows of blue satin ; tunic and bodice of striped blue 
satin ; sash of buttercup satin at the waist; wide lace collar and 
shoulder cape ; Leghorn hat with corn flowers. 

Domino, A. Worn at masque balls and sometimes as a fancy 
dress. It is made in satin, silk and brocade, or of plain cotton in the 
Princess shape, having often a Watteau plait with cape and slender- 
pointed hood and wide sleeves. It should be large and long enough 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


I 7 2 

to slip over the dress easily, and hide it completely. The black are 
usually trimmed with a color, such as a thick niching down the front 
and round the bell-shaped sleeves, and are often piped with a color, 
and lined with the same. The lighter tones sometimes edged with 
swansdown. 

Dowager of Brionne. {Roile de Madame Dejazet.) Plain black 
dress, high to the throat, three jeweled brooches down the bodice, 
chatelaine at side, miniature attached to velvet bow round the throat; 
over-dress of satin caught to the side by loops of beads ; white hair ; 
huge high lace and velvet cap. This costume is well suited to a 
matron of mature age, as well as younger women. It can be rendered 
in black velvet, with a satin over-dress ; in black and gray or two 
shades of gray, or brown, or red. The material must necessarily be 
rich. A gold watch and keys hang at the side ; gold ornaments are 
introduced down the side of dress. The form of the headdress is best 
gathered from the plate. It is a mixture of lace and velvet, with gold 
ornaments, wired ; large lace lapels fall at the back. She carries a 
tall headed cane and fan. 

D utch. There are many varieties of national headdresses 
peculiar to Holland, which would hardly be suitable for fancy balls. 
The usual costume on such occasions is a short blue silk or stuff skirt; 
short plain over-skirt of yellow satin, or brocade, or chintz ; high 
black velvet bodice laced over a high white chemisette with short 
puffed sleeves, silver bands on either side of the jacket fronts ; white 
cap with a gathered frill, large silver circles above the ears and a silver 
band across forehead. The bodice may be made to the waist, square 
at neck, with kerchief tucked in, a band round the waist and across 
bust; or low, with tabs at waist; contrasting stomacher ; turned down 
linen collar. Many pretty Dutch costumes may be copied from 
Mieris, Gerard Dow, and other Dutch painters. A Dutch skating 
costume of the 17th century is as follows: Short satin skirt, long 
upper one, turned up all round to waist; long pointed bodice, sleeves 
with one puff, and then two white satin puffs to wrist ; satin fur-lined 
muff, fur tippets, hoods lined with a color, gauze veil, high-heeled 
shoes, skates hanging at the side. A good Dutch costume is worn at 
Marken ; full short black skirt, bordered with gold ; large figured 
apron ; square, sleeveless jacket bodice of blue, close-fitting, ending at 
waist, bordered with embroidery, and laced with gold over red ; under¬ 
bodice high to throat; white, tight sleeves to elbow, blue armlets to 
wrist ; round high headdress like a busby, with two rows of beads. 


FANCY DRESSES DESCRIBED. 


*73 


Egyptian. Red under-skirt, with Egyptian hieroglyphics ; a 
white over-dress, caught up on one side by red silk scarf round hips 
falling in a tabbed end in the exact center of front ; loose, full bodice, 
pendant sleeves ; a peplum fastened on the shoulder, worked with the 
Egyptian honeysuckle ; the hair dressed hat ; the headdress like that 
of the Sphinx, in black and gold, much jeweled, a bird behind it, and 
coins in front, or a square of cashmere bordered with sequins, secured 
to forehead by gold band. Or, a turban of white muslin trimmed 
with gold band and pearls. Armlets of gold, and necklet with coins 
and gems. 

Elizabeth, Queen of England, and her Period (1558-1603.) 
Full skirt, touching ground, often jeweled round hem, gathered to bodice 
at waist ; made of brocade or embroidered velvet, worn over a hoop. 
The bodice is stiff, with deep pointed stomacher, low in front and 
embroidered with serpents, etc., or jeweled ; ruff supported on wire 
at back, reaching to the head ; the hair frizzed ; a small velvet cap 
and jeweled crown ; the front breadth of dress embroidered or quilted 
with pearls, the sleeves puffed to wrist with ruffles ; very pointed 
shoes. Velvet, satin or brocade is suitable. A velvet train bordered 
with ermine can be worn from shoulders. 

Lady Bacon. A large-patterned brocaded skirt of dark 
blue and red, on a cream ground, distended by huge hoops ; front of 
skirt of light blue silk, covered with long muslin apron, the squares 
upon it formed in hemstitch, bordered with pointed lace ; the bodice 
of the brocade, with a front of light blue satin, having dark blue bands 
at the top and waist, matching similar bands on either side of the 
skirt; a pleated muslin partlet to the throat; huge unpleated ruff in 
three points from the shoulders, bordered with Vandyke lace, and 
edged with wire, so that each point turns down ; a short sleeve over 
tight dark blue striped ones ; turned back cuffs of Vandyke lace at 
the wrist; headdress of Marie Stuart form, edged with lace. The 
other a woman of a lower social grade ; full pink cashmere skirt, worn 
over huge farthingale ; dark green paniers ; scissors tied to the side 
with black ribbon ; bodice bordered with blue, showing muslin partlet; 
white collar, stiffened ; white cap with black velvet. 

Empire (1805-1815.) Various kinds of dress prevailed during 
this period. For awhile, a classical style obtained : long flowing 
skirts, with peplums, -the sleeves fastened with three buttons outside 
the arm ; the hair dressed with fillets of gold ; this was the evening 
garb. In the daytime, there were the coal-scuttle bonnets, short 


174 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


waists below the armpits, and other monstrosities. When Josephine 
n igned at court more graceful attire was adopted ; the court dresses 
were of gold tissue, and velvets covered with gold embroideries ; for 
example, white under-dress of silk, embroidered in gold ; green velvet 
train from waist, worked with gold bordered with ermine ; pigot 
sleeves, studded with bees ; long gloves hiding the arm. During a 
portion of this period, quite short dresses were worn ; or pale blue 
costume worked in corn flowers ; gathered bodice of gold gauze, woven 

with gold, the waist coming under the armpits, and made with a cape; 

#■ 

Indian shawl, fastened on shoulder with the gold ornament of the 
period ; large Tuscan bonnet, with birds of Paradise on the top, and 
blue ribbon carried on the arm like a basket; or white satin dress, the 
front of Rose du Bary satin, veiled in crepe, and lisse embroidered in 
gold ; low short-waisted bodice ; stomacher of pink, with white and 
gold embroidery; long white Suede gloves ; hair dressed high, Rose 
du Bary plume. Long satin over-skirt, looped up ; double-breasted 
bodice, and cape; tie of lace ; large hat. A good costume for a 
middle-aged woman at fancy ball. 

Esther, Queen. White cashmere under-robe bordered with 
gold, cut low at neck, with sleeves coming from a band at shoulders 
and flowing at the back ; over this a sleeveless dress, cut heart-shape 
in front, and fastened with massive gold girdle ; beads round neck ; 
gold girdle ; a cashmere veil reaching to feet ; gold-pointed coronet ; 
sandaled shoes. At a memorable ball in Paris, Queen Esther, who 
had auburn hair, wore it inter-plaited with pearls, a cap of oriental 
material, had a black aigrette and diamond stars, like the one Mme. 
de Pompadour, as Queen Esther, wore in Van Tor’s picture. The 
train was of moss green, embroidered in blue and silver, opening over 
a blue and silver satin redingote ; red satin trousers, embroidered in 
gold ; and slippers worked in gold and pearls. The train was borne 
by a page. 

Evangeline. As a Normandy peasant, with kirtle or petticoat 
of bl ue ; the tunic, which may match or be of contrasting colors, 
drawn through the slit at back ; large earrings and cross ; white Nor¬ 
mandy cap ; a rosary hanging at the side ; the bodice square, with 
chemisette beneath. 

Flora Macdonald. White satin dress, made with plain skirt 
and half-high bodice ; hair in curls ; plaid of Macdonald tartan (Clan 
Ronald) over the head ; buckled shoes ; long mittens. 

Flora McIvor ( Waver ley ). White silk skirt and low bodice ; 


FANCY DRESSES DESCRIBED. 


175 


tartan scarf draped loosely across, secured with Scotch brooches on 
shoulders; long, hanging sleeves ; hair in curls ; black velvet Scotch 
bonnet with plumes. 

Flower-Girl. May be carried out in various ways. A tulle 
evening dress besprinkled with all kinds of flowers, a straw hat with 
flowers on head. A poudre dress with flowers. The most general 
style is a short, bright-colored skirt, velvet bodice, laced stomacher, 
muslin apron with or without bib, bunches of flowers about them ; a 
basket of the same in hand ; a straw hat with ribbons, or a wreath of 
flowers. Sometimes a chiffonier’s basket is carried at the back, filled 
with flowers, and a Normandy cap worn, A pretty dress is a laced 
bodice and skirt of pale blue serge, edged with rows of velvet; cam¬ 
bric apron ; basket of flowers ; sleeves puffed to wrist. Or, a pink 
sateen, with black velvet bodice. A Vaudois flower girl wears a 
wheel-shaped lace cap, and straw hat above, with woolen skirt; square 
bodice ; low under-bodice; velvet yoke, and ribbon streamers. Some¬ 
times bright-colored silk handkerchiefs are draped about the head. 

Gainsborough (After), generally represented by the famous 
Duchess of Devonshire. This celebrated picture was 60 inches high 
by 45 wide ; it was supposed to have been painted about 1783. It is 
described as “Duchess of Devonshire in a white dress, and blue silk 
petticoat and sash, and a large black hat and feathers.” The figure 
is shown only to knees. Supposed to be a portrait of Georgina, the 
beautiful Duchess of Devonshire. In 1876 it was purchased for 
10,100 by Mr. Agnew, and shortly after it was stolen. Blue satin 
flowing skirt ; long over-skirt of figured cream silk ; long sleeves and 
belted bodice of same ; kerchief, bordered with frill, crosses in front, 
ends disappear in waist band. Hair powdered, and turned off face 
in a large roll, larger at the sides than at the top, ends curled, floating 
on shoulders, or the hair powdered ; long strip of muslin entwined 
with it, forming a turban ; almond-colored kid mittens ; high-heeled 
black shoes ; very large hat of velvet or satin, with plumes. 

Galatea. Long white cashmere skirt, Indian muslin em¬ 
broidered with a Greek scroll. A peplum of the same coming from 
the shoulders, forming points at the side, terminating in tassels, 
bordered with gold braid and fringe ; armlets and bracelets with 
chains ; gilt band round the head and waist, hair flowing. 

Gipsy, Queen of Gipsies, Fortune, Fortune-Teller, Peddler, 
Bohemienne, and Zingara. For the peddler and fortune-teller order 
of gipsies, a short red, black, or print skirt, loose red bodice, with 


i ;6 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


belt ; yellow handkerchief round neck, red cloak, straw bonnet, and 
basket stocked with laces, clothes-pegs, cheap jewelry, packs of 
cards ; bright red petticoat with band of black velvet and gold braid 
on either side. Algerian tunic, velvet bodice, low, square, short tur- 
reted sleeves, trimmed with gold braid and sequins, gold cord from 
shoulder attached to a small dagger at the waist ; chemisette of soft 
muslin with puffed sleeves tied at elbow with black velvet; orange 
and red handkerchief tied round head, the ends crossing at back 
fastened with large gold pins ; coin ornaments. Or, a striped woolen 
petticoat, a blue jacket, cut V-shape at neck, lined with maize ; a 
muslin apron and bib, playing.cards sewn to skirt ; worsted handker¬ 
chief tied over head. The more ornamental Gipsy Queens, etc., 
wear short dresses of red, yellow, and black satin betrimmed with 
gold, as follows: Red satin petticoat, with black velvet and gold 
hieroglyphics, trimmed with coins and gold fringe ; gold satin upper 
skirt, covered with a gold trellis-work, and Vandykes with coins, 
Spanish balls, and fringe ; silk scarf of many colors round waist, 
stay-bodice of black velvet, trimmed with gold, short sleeves, black 
velvet bag; gold crown with coins, bracelets and armlets united by 
chains, coin ornaments; a tambourine in hand. This is equally 
applicable for a Zingara or Bohemienne, except that a gold net and 
coins is best for the head. High black satin boots with gold trim- 
mings, or black shoes embroidered in gold, and sometimes a white 
chemisette above the low bodice, black gloves, black stockings; pale 
yellow flowered skirt, draped with jonquil satin, crape sash studded 
with stars; red satin bodice over lace ; yellow gauze draped across 
the shoulders ; scarf of red and yellow gauze about the head. 

Grace Darling. Short skirt, striped bodice and tunic in one, 
belt at waist; sailor collar and tie ; a red silk sailor’s tasseled cap on 
head. Wide sleeves lined with white, and rolled up. A life-buoy 
fastened to back of dress, a small lighthouse and anchor as a chate¬ 
laine, ropes round the waist, a lighted lantern in the hand, a fishing- 
net on shoulder. This may be carried out in navy blue and red and 
white cotton, or serge ; or more prettily, in red, and red and white 
soft silk. Hair curled, a coil at back. A more fanciful rendering of 
the character is a sky-blue petticoat bodice and tunic of striped plush 
in scarlet, yellow, sage, and brown. The tunic edged all round with 
red life-buoys, and looped at the side with cords from which hang a 
lantern and large life-buoy of a yellow color ; blue sailor collar ; blue 
turned back cuffs to the sleeves. 


FANCY DRESSES DESCRIBED. 


177 


Grandmother, My Great, or the Ghost of my Grandmother, is 
generally rendered by a poudre dress of brocade, with large cap, 
sacque, fichu, quilted skirt, high heels, and stick ; lace mittens. 
Another style is a black dress with folds of muslin crossing the bust, 
large cap, spectacles, and white wig. 

Greek. Ancient Greek. —Wore the chiton or undergarment of 
linen or wool girded round the waist; over this the diploidia which 
was wrapped round the shoulders, and fastened on one side with a 
brooch or button serving for a cloak. In later days this was super¬ 
seded by the chitonion, a sort of jacket joined on the shoulders and 
falling in points at the side, hiding the bodice; and also by the hima- 
tion, also draped about the figure ; the whole showed beautiful bor- 
derings of Greek designs and work. Only wool or linen are correct 
materials. At fancy balls the costume is rendered by a flowing skirt 
of cashmere, the hem braided in gold ; chitonion, or sleeveless jacket, 
draped over the figure, made also in cashmere and braided. Gold 
belt, armlets, bracelets, and fillet on head. Modern Greek. —Hair in 
two long plaits, interwoven with gold; round velvet cap and tassel; 
silk trousers to ankle ; short skirt, sleeveless paletot, opening in front; 
Zouave jacket, with long sleeves, green, red, or blue, the usual colors, 
trimmed with gold—it can hardly be too richly embroidered in gold ; 
an Oriental scarf round waist, loose sleeves, and veil of gold-spangled 
gauze. 

H arvest. Maize or brown tulle evening dress, trimmed with 
silver or gold lace and fringe, and chatelaines and garlands of poppies, 
wheat ears, and silver or gold oats and corn flowers, marguerites, and 
bunches of wheat tied with ribbon. A small wheat sheaf carried in the 
hand, a sickle at the side, diadem of field flowers. Or, gold train from 
the shoulders, lined with blue satin ; cream and blue satin dress, 
trimmed with gold wheat, poppies, and corn flowers ; on head, a wreath 
and gold scythe; scythes on shoulders ; flowers on fan. August is 
dressed the same. 

Haydee. In modern Greek costume. Under-dress embroidered 
in pearls and gold ; over-dress lined with a contrasting color, edge 
trimmed with gold ; bodice and skirt in one ; trousers of striped silk 
or gauze ; folded- turban with ornaments in front; long veil and 
sleeves of gauze ; Oriental shoes, suitable colorings: blue and gold, 
red, green and gold. 

Hero. (Much Ado about Nothing). Dress of white satin, the 
skirt touching the ground, wrought in pearls, with gold and white; 



1/8 ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 

over-dress of the same, forming a high square to low bodice ; the 
stomacher worked in pearls ; there is a wired ruff starting from the 
front of bodice, widening at the back; tight sleeves, lace ruffles at 
wrist, and epaulettes puffed and entwined with pearls on shoulder; 
coronet, or band, or coif of pearls on the head ; the hair hanging in 
long ends, interplaited with pearls ; pearled shoes. 

Hornet. Short black or brown dress of velvet or satin ; boots 
to match ; tunic pointed back and front, with gold stripes ; satin bodice 
of black or brown with gold gauze wings ; cap of velvet with eyes and 
antennae of insect. 

H untress. Full satin skirt gathered at waist, well-fitting coat of 
contrasting satin, with coat tail, and large velvet hat with diamond 
aigrette and feathers, the pockets and cuffs of coat fastened with 
diamond buttons ; lace tie. Huntress of the Black Forest . A green 
velvet dress, quite short, trimmed with gold fringe; hi^h boots and 
gloves edged with fur ; bow and arrows slung across the back, and 
hunting-knife in the girdle ; cap of gold and green velvet. Time of 
Louis XIV. Short, plain skirt of pink sateen ; waistcoat of white 
brocade, square pockets ; mousquetaire coat of blue satin, braided with 
silver; three-cornered hat with feathers ; powdered hair in a queue ; 
whip and horn; dark green trousers meeting the top of boots ; green 
cloth petticoat with velvet hem; dark green velvet coat with old gold 
satin cuffs and reveres; bag netted with gold cord ; the high hat has 
green feathers. 

Incroyable (1789). Short red, white, and blue skirt; blue satin 
coat with tails lined with red, and reveres ; lace ruffles; gold buttons; 
cravat of old lace ; gendarme hat, with tri-color rosette ; black shoes 
and buckles, blue stockings. Old-fashioned gold-headed cane; fob, 
eyeglass. Or, striped satin skirt, red, white and blue; gold satin 
tunic, looped up with red roses ; handsome long-tailed coat of blue 
satin, gold lined, and large gold buttons, and bouquet of roses in but¬ 
tonhole ; high frill and jabot at throat; chapeau a la claque , trimmed 
gold and brocade, tri-color at side ; blue silk stockings, worked in gold, 
and patent shoes ; eyeglass, and elaborate jewelry. Or, long-tailed 
coat of sky blue velvet, with large pearl buttons, and a white waistcoat 
©f satin, embroidered with colored flowers ; a skirt of gray tulle with 
long tunic of soft gray silk looped up gracefully with pale blue satin 
ribbon ; gray silk hose embroidered with colored silk flowers; dark 
blue slippers, very large satin bows ; powdered head tied with a queue ; 
cocked hat, wide lace cravat; cane with gold head, quaint scissor 



FANCY DRESSES DESCRIBED. 


179 


shaped eyeglass of the period. This is a very favorite costume. 
Sometimes the skirts are hand-painted ; sometimes there are triple 
reveres to the coat, for which plush is a good material ; blue with white 
satin skirt, trimmed with gold, is a good mixture. 

Italian Peasant ( Contadina .) This is carried out in most in¬ 
congruous materials for fancy balls. The Roman Peasant's dress is 
a short blue skirt, which may be trimmed with gold, a red upper skirt 
forming a point on the left side ; a low white chemisette, the sleeves 
coming above the wrist ; and on the lower portion of the arm only, 
over the white sleeve is one of red, like a gaiter. Roman lace and 
embroidery are often introduced on the top of the chemisette and 
shoulders ; the bodice is a low black or red corselet forming points in 
front, bordered with gold, and laced ; a long apron of bright-colored 
stripes is fastened round the waist, with no gathers, a third of it turn* 
ing down outside. The headdress is usuallv made of white linen of 
oblong shape, the portion resting flat on the head lined with cardboard 
six inches square, the end plain, or having bands of lace across it. 
High-heeled shoes ; and coral and blue beads and gold for ornaments. 
The Neapolitan Peasant at a fancy ball is clad in lighter colors, such 
as pink and green, or blue and maize ; the sleeves to match the corselet, 
coming often to the wrist ; the tunic of Algerienne ; the headdress 
satin or silk. A Lombardy Peasant wears a scarlet and white em¬ 
broidered petticoat ; blue bodice, and tunic trimmed with gold ; white 
kerchief on shoulders ; blue silk handkerchief on head ; Swiss belt of 
black and silver. A Sorrentine Peasant , amber satin skirt, edged 
with scarlet, over-skirt of scarlet; black velvet bodice ; white silk 
chemisette ; scarlet silk headdress, with gold clasps. Red and blue 
velvet trimmed with gold lace are favorite materials for Italian cos¬ 
tumes, which should always be of bright colors. 

Joan of Arc. White pleated cashmere skirt ; a suit of armor, 
with helmet and plume, mailed feet, gloves ; red cloak at shoulder. 
Or, as she appeared at the coronation of the French king, skirt and 
tunic of blue satin, spangled with fleurs-de-lis ; silver helmet with 
white plume ; coat of mail, mail on arms, gauntlets, feet encased in 
long boots ; sword with cross on hilt, and shield ; the hair floating on 
shoulders. The suit of armor may be of silver, burnished steel, or 
what is called scale armor. But it can also be made by cutting out 
in strong brown paper the various pieces required, copied from any 
illustrated history, or from Knight’s “ Shakespeare,” pasted over with 
silvered paper. Round the edges inside strips of linen should be 


i8o 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


pasted to strengthen them, so that tapes may be sewn with which to 
tie shaped pockets ; black velvet sleeveless bodice open at neck ; large 
hat set at back of head ; blue stockings, black shoes with orange 
rosette. The coloring is optional. 

Juliet. {Romeo and Juliet .) Flowing dress of silk or satin, with 
golden girdle, the bodice cut low in front; pointed elbow sleeves 
caught up inside with gold ornaments, and trimmed with gold lace ; 
gold girdle ; pouch at side ; pearl and velvet or satin headdress ; long 
veil. Miss Terry wore, first, a sleeveless gown of creamy white satin, 
bordered with blue, under-sleeves of soft woolen stuff; hair on shoul¬ 
ders ; crowned with wreath of yellow marguerites. Second dress : 
Large brocade, blue and gold, hem bordered with band of cinnamon 
brown, embroidered in gold ; a square-cut bodice and long open 
sleeves ; tight under-sieves ; dark blue silk dress, gathered at waist; 
blue girdle. Third dress: Woolen underdress made plain and full, 
gathered at the waist, over it a loose white silk gown, open in front, 
with square sleeves to elbow. Miss Anderson wore a long cloak from 
shoulder embroidered in pearls ; satin dress with bands of pearls ; puff 
at each shoulder, muslin peeping in at elbow ; satchel bag ; flowing 
hair, with fillet and jeweled band. 

Lawn Tennis and Badminton. Sometimes for these only an 
ordinary lawn tennis dress and pouch are worn, with a bat attached to 
the side. A better representation is a green satin skirt, a bat fasten¬ 
ing a silver net, forming paniers, pouches and balls on the shoulders, 
which drape the skirt ; scarf across bodice, with lawn tennis in silver 
letters ; black bodice with white circles to resemble balls ; high pointed 
black hat with a bat as an aigrette ; brown stockings and shoes. Or, 
a short plain skirt of grass green satin, gathered at back, trimmed 
round the edge with two rows of grass fringe, headed by a flat band 
of white satin an inch and a half in width, to represent the boundary 
of court ; six lines of same round the skirt at intervals ; a tennis net 
draped from waist, edged with scarlet, and white worsted balls ; 
miniature tennis bats hold up the drapery ; bodice of green velvet, 
long sleeves to wrist, all bordered with gold braid and scarlet and 
white balls ; epaulettes of scarlet and white satin ribbon ; red and 
white satin peaked cap, with daisies and leaves beneath the flap ; 
Suede gloves, and black shoes ; scarlet stockings ; ornaments, gold 
tennis bats ; fan like a bat, in red. 

Lurline. Dress of frosted or silver spangled tulle, over white 
or green, caught up with crystal and aquatic plants, such as water- 


FANCY DRESSES DESCRIBED. 


181 


lilies and grasses ; a veil of tulle to match dress hangs over the float¬ 
ing hair, which should be covered with frosting powder ; bodice of 
silver tissue ; diamond ornaments. 

Macbeth, Lady, hirst dress : A long velvet robe, with a narrow 
velvet tunic fastening down the front, with brodequins ; low bodice, 
showing white chemisette slightly at the neck ; plaid scarf flowing 
loosely ; short sleeves ; massive bracelets ; long hair; a velvet cap 
secured by a broad ribbon passing under the chin. Second dress : 
White satin trimmed with silver ; scarlet mantle with ermine ; silver 
coronet surmounted by cross. Third dress : White wrapper trimmed 
with lace. Witches. Short skirt with frogs and toads appliqued in 
black velvet on quilted satin skirt, chintz tunics ; black velvet bodices 
laced in front; ruffles at elbow ; cats and owls on shoulder; short 
cloaks with square collar at back; high black velvet hats, entwined 
with serpents. 

Magpie. Half black, half white dress; hair powdered on one 
side, and not on the other; one glove and one shoe black, one white , 
short satin skirt, with gauze tunic bordered with fringe; basque 
bodice ; gauze fichu ; satin ribbon tied in a bow at the throat; gauze 
cap. All half black and half white, so that the wearer seems on one 
side all black, on the other all white. A magpie on the right shoulder. 
The front of skirt is striped black and white satin pleated ; the bodice 
cut in one with long side reveres of black, lined and turned back with 
white ruching to the hem of skirt, opening down back to show full 
pleated skirt. The black bodice bordered with white ; low striped 
vest; magpie on the shoulder and in hair, which may be powdered or 
not, or half powdered. 

Marie Antoinette. Pale rose brocaded sacque over petticoat 
trimmed with bronze and lace; large hood ; high powdered wig, 
plumes of pink feathers; red velvet round neck and wrist. In her 
prison days (after Paul Delaroche), she wears a plain, long-skirted, 
short-waisted black silk dress, the sleeves short and turned up with a 
band of muslin ; a long muslin scarf fichu over the neck, the ends 
falling in front of the skirt; the hair white, and tied with a black 

o 

ribbon at the back, turned off the face in front ; no ornaments ; a 
black bow and band of velvet round the neck. In the famous picture 
at the Trianon (the costume worn by the Countess of Wilton at 
Marlborough House) the dress is three skirts over a large hoop ; the 
first, blue brocade, embroidered in silver ; the second, white, em¬ 
broidered with gold ; and the third, pink satin, caught up with white 


182 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


satin bows and silver tassels ; the bodice low ; the pointed stomacher 
a mass of diamonds ; a pink satin train from the left shoulder, em¬ 
broidered with fleurs-de-lis and silver fringe and lace ; the hair pow¬ 
dered, and a large blue velvet cap with feathers and diamonds. 
Another charming costume, as Dauphine (after Le Brun’s picture), 
has the hair powdered and turned off the face, with a large toque of 
velvet, aigrette of diamonds and feathers, a rouleau of gauze sur¬ 
rounding it, and hanging at the back ; the bodice is low, and a lace- 
edged gauze fichu is draped over it, showing the neck and crossing in 
the front without ends ; the tight velvet sleeves come to the wrist, and 
are bordered with fur ; so is the velvet skirt, which opens over a satin 
skirt ; long mittens. The dress worn at the Trianon : A short quilted 
skirt ; square bodice ; elbow-sleeves, and train of brocade ; powdered 
hair ; large velvet hat and feathers. Another rendering : Pale blue 
satin skirt, trimmed with festoons of pale yellow lace, looped up all 
round with small wreaths of pale pink “pompon” roses ; upper skirt 
of pink brocaded satin, exactly matching the roses in color, looped 
rather high upon the hips a la Watteau ; square bodice of pink brocade, 
richly trimmed with the same lace at skirt and pompon roses ; tight 
elbow-sleeves, with falling lace and pompon roses ; hair dressed high 
and powdered ; aigrette of pink roses and a mass of most magnificent 
diamonds and pearls, which were also profusely scattered over the 
body and other parts of this beautiful costume. 

Mary, Mary, Quite Contrary. Quilted petticoats, with colored 
pictures of “ pretty girls all in a row,” bordered with silver cord ; satin 
tunic with silver bells, having garlands of cockle-shells and primroses ; 
the bodice a low square, with long sleeves trimmed to match ; satin 
hat with primroses, bells, and cockle-shells ; silver chatelaine of spade, 
hoe, rake, and watering-pot; tiny watering-pots for earrings; cockle¬ 
shell necklace; mittens ; high-heeled satin shoes. Pink and blue, 
white and blue and pale green, are suitable colors. Or, white satin 
short dress scolloped and bound with pale blue and edged with pleats; 
silver hanging bells introduced between each picture. 

May, May Queen. Flowered brocade trimmed with May 
blossoms. Or, green and white striped satin skirt, pink satin tunic, and 
low square bodice festooned with May-flowers ; a maypole, surmounted 
by flowers, carried in the hand ; a crown of hawthorn, primroses, and 
marguerites, and a tulle veil. Sometimes a simple village girls white 
muslin dress is worn, with these floral trimmings, for this character. 

Mexican. Short skirt of black and red, with scarf of many 


FANCY DRESSES DESCRIBED. 


183 

colors wrapped round the head, and falling on dress. Much gold 
about the costume ; gold sequins, chains, etc. Or, long yellow 
trousers, opening near the feet on the outside of the leg, and showing 
a pleating of muslin beneath ; the bodice comes low in the neck, opens 
on the shoulder, and is embroidered all round in black ; a colored 
scarf is wound about the waist, a round hat on the head ; short skirt. 

Midnight. Black tulle, with ostrich feather trimming, and silver 
stars. 

Mist. Gray tulle, scattered over with dewdrops; square cut 
bodice, and sacque of gray ; gray shaded tulle veil of the same fastened 
in powdered hair and to front of bodice, with diamonds ; gray shoes, 
gloves, stockings and fan ; diamond ornaments. 

Monte Carlo. Dress, half red satin, half black velvet and 
lace ; one shoe red, one black ; short skirt fringed with coins, and 
trimmed with cards ; pointed coronet of red satin, with aigrette of 
cards on shoulder; croupier s rake carried in hand ; and Rouge et 
Noir. 

Music. White satin dress trimmed round the edge with tulle 
and black velvet, to represent the keyboard of a piano, and above 
this two rows of notes and lines formed with velvet and buttons; a 
scarf draped across the skirt has the treble and base clefs on the 
frineed^ends ; the low bodice has winded sleeves, a lyre on the 
shoulders; the same in the center of the coronet, and on the shoes, 
made of white satin. On the bodice is a draped bertha fastening 
beneath a lyre. Two sisters might appear as Music and Painting. 
Or, soft dress of crepe de China or llama, the bodice low and full, 
with belt; embroidered with ivy leaves along the top, the same car¬ 
ried round the pendant sleeves from elbow; musical instrument in the 
hand. Or, short eau de Nile silk skirt, studded with sharps and flats, 
five rows of velvet with notes to represent a piece of music. In the 
hand a Spanish guitar. 

Nun, Novice, Abbess. These are unsuited to fancy costumes, 
but are sometimes adopted, and are usually carried out as follows :— 
The Novice, a white dress, such as veritable novices do not much 
affect; viz. a long white muslin gown and a muslin veil attached to 
the back of the head, beneath a small wreath of white roses ; a 
chatelaine of white beads at the waist. Nuns and Abbesses at balls 
adopt flowing dresses, a knotted belt, a rosary at the side, and either 
a white or black headdress. There is little attempt at consistency ; 
the sleeves are sometimes lined with black silk ; the headdress made 



184 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


of crepe lisse, with a flowing black gauze veil. The robe of the 
Dominican and Augustine Nuns is white, with a loose, oblong piece 
depending in front, as well as back ; the headdress is black lined with 
white, square over the face where it turns up with white, and reaches 
below the shoulders, a sort of linen cape half covering the body, 
forming part of it. A long black cloak is also worn. The Benedic¬ 
tines and Ursulines have white linen hoods and capes, forehead 
bound with white linen, with variations. 

Oranges and Lemons. A fashionably made tulle evening dress 
of light blue or two shades of yellow, with branches of orange upon 
it, a wreath of orange blossoms having an orange at the side ; orange 
and lemon leaves round the bodice. This offers an opportunity to a 
recent bride of wearing her bridal wreath once more. Fan with 
oranges painted on it ; basket of oranges and lemons in hand ; lemon- 
colored shoes and gloves. Another costume is : Dress of very pale 
blue tulle, with satin bodice ; a row of orange leaves with a few 
flowers for the sleeves and edging of the bodice, and arranged about 
the skirt; clusters of the fruit on the left of the low bodice, the back 
of the right sleeve, about the skirt, and on the hair ; the fan com¬ 
posed of leaves with a cluster of fruit, and a fancy basket of the fruit 
on the arm ; the long, lemon-colored gloves have the backs painted to 
match. Two sisters might dress the character as follows: White 
satin dresses over yellow; powdered hair ; one trimmed with foliage, 
the other with oranges ; the leaves may be arranged as paniers, with 
clusters of fruit depending, the fruit forming a cap, with the stalk 
upward and the leaves around ; large fan of yellow gauze. Two 
shades of yellow are sometimes employed for this dress, if the person 
represents the two fruits. 

Painting. Red plush costume with white satin tablier painted 
in water-colors to represent small pictures, the plush is draped with a 
palette ; the other side of the bodice is white satin, with laurel leaves 
and small palette ; headdress, a sort of hat, formed with a palette and 
aigrette of brushes ; red silk hose, black shoes. Or, classical robe of 
light drab cashmere, low, full bodice and belt, short sleeves Cut in two 
Vandykes, fastened with buttons on outside of arm ; long train from 
shoulders lined with blue, palette and brush on one side ; a crown of 
bay leaves on the head. 

Photography. A green silk dress trimmed with tulle of the 
same shade ; round the skirt, nestling in the bouillonnes a row of 
photographs ; a scarf of the silk draped across the skirt, with 


FANCY DRESSES DESCRIBED. 


185 


medallion photographs at intervals, all bordered with green galon ; the 
bertha of the low bodice fastened at the front, back, and on the 
shoulders with them ; a cap in the form of a lunette, with cartes-de- 
visite, and a long green veil depending. 

Pompadour, Madame, 1744. The beautiful, graceful, talented 
mistress of Louis XV; her name calls up visions of powder, brocade, 
ribbons and laces, ruffles, plumes, long-pointed waists, and rich em¬ 
broidery. A pretty costume of hers is as follows: Long embroidered 
skirt of white satin, with pink rosebuds and silver leaves ; tunic of pink 
brocade ; long-waisted, pointed bodice, open in front, laced across with 
a stiff and narrow stomacher ; sleeves to the elbow, terminating in 
ruffles. Sometimes the upper skirt is open, and forms a train over a 
lower one, covered with embroidery. Silk, satin, and brocade are 
suitable. Pink and blue are the mixtures with which she is most 
associated, but the following combinations may be employed: Black 
and pink, blue and cerise, violet and blue, white and blue, maize and 
white, gray and rose-color. The hair should be dressed high, over 
the forehead in numerous small curls, like a pouf a la neige, and be 
ornamented with feathers, pearls, and roses. Or, skirt of apple-green 
satin, trimmed with mother-o’-pearl embroidery; bunches of large roses 
fastened on the right side ; the waistcoat, green satin ; the bodice 
and paniers, flowered moire ; the low neck surrounded by a row of 
large pearls, below which is a pearl fringe; a chaplet of roses on the 
powdered hair. 

Press, or Newspapers. This is carried out entirely in news¬ 
paper; the skirt consists of box-pleated illustrations from the papers, 
coming to the waist, with portraits and names of newspapers pasted 
across here and there ; the bodice with bertha to match, and bows of 
scarlet velvet; quill pens, an ink-bottle, and sealing-wax stuck in the 
hair. It has a much better effect than would appear, and has been a 
favorite dress at fancy balls. In Paris the same idea was carried out 
with a white satin dress, having bands of velvet, bearing the words 
“Discretion,” “Indiscretion,” and the names of Paris .papers; a 
bonnet de police on the head ; a bag a potence at the side. Postage 
stamps sometimes form a trimming on the skirt, and it is then 
occasionally called “ Postage.” 

Red Riding-Hood. Short blue silk or cashmere dress, with five 
rows of scarlet velvet round ; the bodice sewn to skirt, low and full 
like a child’s, with short sleeves and lace tucker; white muslin pin¬ 
afore, edged with lace; a scarlet cloak, with full gathered hood, having 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


186 

a black velvet bow in the center; the cloak is tied round the neck, 
and the hood may or may not be worn on the head; a blue ribbon in 
the hair; black silk stockings and shoes, with silver buckles; a basket 
of eggs carried in the hand. Or, blue silk quilted sk rt; square velvet 
bodice, with lace chemisette and lace sleeves ; large white muslin apron 
and bib, trimmed with two rows of Valenciennes lace; red cloak, with 
hood lined with blue silk ; corn flower ornaments, and basket of corn 
flowers in the hand ; blue silk stockings, worked with crimson ; a 
crimson satin sash, and patent shoes. Or, the dress of the French Red 
Riding Hood, which is more picturesque. Small chaperon hood and 
cape of red cashmere, worn with an overskirt and bodice of the same 
color, the bodice cut square, with elbow sleeves, and laced in front 
over a white cambric stomacher with scarlet ribbons ; the underskirt 
gray and short, showing scarlet and white silk hose, and high-heeled 
shoes ; a large round cake or galette, real or imitation, should be 
carried under the arm, and in the hand a small basket, supposed to 
contain the traditional pat of butter and eggs. 

Rouge-et-Noir. Skirt, sleeves, and low bodice of black and 
red striped satin, with dice embroidered on the front; sleeveless bodice, 
and diagonally draped tunic of red crape or gauze, forming ends tied 
at the back, with a bow of black lace and four small toy cards tied in 
with them ; these same cards, alternately red and black, in a slanting 
position, are laid round the edge of the tunic and bodice with a trim¬ 
ming of black lace and gold braid and fringe; a bow on the shoulders 
with four cards tied together, the same in front of bodice ; ornaments, 
enamel cards and dice ; on the head a cornucopia-shaped cap, half¬ 
black, half-red, like that worn by Folly, with an aigrette formed of a 
gilt hand holding cards, or a pointed coronet. Or, French cashmere 
bodice, tunic, and skirt; headdress and necklace trimmed with cards, 
alternate black and red ; gloves, stockings, and shoes, one black, one 
red. Or, tight-fitting low bodice of red satin, and a red skirt, with 
black lace ; round the edge of short skirt, a pleated flounce with cards; 
bodice and sleeves trimmed to match, and a cap on the head of red 
and black satin with a few cards on one side; ornaments, gold, 
and a fan composed of satin and cards ; black gloves, with bracelets 
like serpents, and loops of red satin ; croupier’s rake in hand, with 
cards on left shoulder; red fan. 

Russian Skater. Round, fur-edged cap ; ruby velvet pelisse, 
edged with fur, opening en coeur at the neck, two fur buttons at the 
back of waist; petticoat of quilted gray satin ; high boots edged with 


FANCY DRESSES DESCRIBED. 


187 


fur and bells ; ornaments silver; a muff carried in the hand; silver 
skates attached to girdle. 

Scotch Costume, Highland Lassie, etc., at fancy balls are 
generally carried out by a white dress, with Scotch pebble ornaments ; 
a satin plaid scarf draped on the shoulders with cairngorm brooches ; 
sometimes a Scotch bonnet of black velvet with black plumes is worn, 
but more generally a ribbon snood or a wreath of ivy or oak leaves. 
The several clans display their badges in the form of silver acorns, oak 
leaves, wheat, etc. This is the fancy dress usually worn at the annual 
Caledonian ball at Willis’ Rooms. As a rule (there are exceptions), 
unless they take part in a special quadrille, the ladies do not wear a 
decidedly fancy dress. 

Seasons, T he. Four sisters might personate the Seasons as follows, 
but two should be blondes, and two brunes. The dresses all made 
short, the satin shoes matching the color of the dresses. Spring wears 
pale green tulle, with flowers and a fringe of grasses; necklace of 
daisies and grass; headdress, a nest with eggs, and a bird on wire hov¬ 
ering over it. Summer is arrayed in maize and red tulle, with wreath 
and trimmings of poppies and corn flowers. Autumn in yellow and 
brown, with autumn leaves, flowers, and ears of corn. Winter in 
white satin, with bands of swansdown ; a fringe of icicles on the tunic. 
Spring carries a basket of fresh violets, Summer a basket of fruit, 
Autumn a sheaf of corn and a sickle, Winter a little fir tree. These 
may be made as fashionable evening gowns, or in soft falling silk, or 
wool cut in classic fashion. 

Spanish Lady. (See Carmen). Short satin skirt (white, red, 
yellow or rose) with black lace flounces headed by bands of velvet or 
gold ; low bodice of the same ; senitorita jacket of velvet trimmed 
with ball fringe, made with long sleeves ; high comb ; lace mantilla 
fastened over it with red and yellow roses, the hair in a coil at back , 
gloves, mittens, and high-heeled shoes. This is the ordinary Spanish 
fancy dress; a black silk dress with square-cut bodice is also en regie. 

Tambourine Girl. Short skirt of black satin, trimmed with 
crimson cloth, embroidered in gold ; bodice of crimson and black satin, 
and gold buttons ; headdress, crimson and gold cap ; ornaments, gold 
coin earrings and necklace, and gold bangles. Or, short black and 
yellow petticoat; red upper skirt, trimmed with bands of black velvet, 
from which gold coins hang ; black velvet low square bodice, laced with 
red and gold : red silk handkerchief on the head, a tambourine hung 
at the side. Or, crimson and green brocade, trimmed with gold coins. 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 



Turkish Lady. Wears loose trousers to ankle, long pelisse, and 
round, cap or turban. The following is a pretty dress: Blue satin 
shoes; loose full trousers to ankle, of gold-spangled muslin ; pelisse of 
blue satin, lined with maize and trimmed with gold braid ; a red scarf 
round the waist; long hanging sleeves, lined with maize ; round fez- 
shaped cap of blue silk, covered with pearls ; hair in long plaits ; many 
rows of beads about the neck and arms ; gold-spangled veil. Some¬ 
times a silk skirt is worn beneath the pelisse. There should be a 
fichu of gold muslin inside the bodice of the dress, which should be 
slightly open. 

Watteau Costumes are so called because they are supposed to 
reproduce the charming picturesque beings delineated by Watteau, 
who died in 1721. A sacque in most cases forms a part of these cos¬ 
tumes. It is fastened to the bodice (which is either high to the 
throat, or a low square at the back) in a double box-pleat. Some¬ 
times it is merely attached at the top, and then falls loose, so that the 
body may be seen distinct from the pleat; but more generally the 
pleat forms the back of the dress. The sacque may be tacked to the 
front breadth, or it may be quite loose and distinct from the skirt and 
bodice. Sometimes it is looped up as a tunic ; or sometimes reaches 
to the hem of the dress. The following is a Watteau dress : High- 
heeled shoes, coming well up on the instep, diamond buckles, silk 
stockings; a skirt of silk or satin, often quilted, short, or just 
touching the ground, or of muslin with small pleated flounces to the 
waist; a sacque of silk with square-cut bodice, pointed in front, 
trimmed with lace ; elbow-sleeves and ruffles; narrow black velvet 
round neck and wrists ; powdered hair ; muslin apron. The illustration 
is after a well-known Watteau picture in the Dulwich Gallery. The 
sacque is quite distinct from the low-tabbed bodice, a style which 
admits of a much easier flow of drapery, and gives far more grace 
of movement when the minuet is danced ; powdered hair and feathers. 

White Dress. Pure white dresses at balls are much the 
fashion. The following are also good : The Ghost of Queen 
Elizabeth , the costume of the time, all white ; white rose leaves, 
white hyacinth, white butterfly; a French Peasant in white 
cambric jacket and skirt; white cap, apron and stockings; and 
a White Witch , carried out in white satin and gauze, with white vel¬ 
vet bodice; white ruff stomacher of silver cloth ; and sugar-loaf hat, 
worn over poudre hair, with electric star on forehead ; silver broom¬ 
stick and cauldron. Snowflakes , white velvet bodice, and spangled 


FANCY DRESSES DESCRIBED. 


IS; 

tulle veil, with swansdown on tulle skirt. Sweet Seventeen: Soft, 
white muslin dress made with short waist, broad white sash, small 
white sleeves, long white mittens ; white sandaled shoes ; hair 
powdered ; white satin bag suspended from arm. 

Witch. See Hubbard, Mother; and Macbeth: Short, quilted 
skirt of red satin, with cats and lizards in black velvet ; gold satin 
panier tunic ; black velvet bodice laced over an old-gold crepe bodice ; 
small cat on right shoulder, a broom in the hand, with owl; tall, pointed 
velvet cap ; shoes with buckles. 

Yachts. Many balls are now given at our seaports, where the 
dresses of the ladies are supposed to represent yachts ; scarfs car¬ 
ried across the bodice denoting the name, such as the Swallow , the 
Raven , and so on. Sometimes a white tulle gown is simply draped 
with flags and the burgee ; or if American or other vessels are meant, 
the national flag falls from one shoulder. 


GIRLS’AND BOYS’ FANCY COSTUMES. 

Juvenile Fancy Balls are much the fashion, and the current is 
setting toward all that is quaint and picturesque. Some of the best 
dresses worn by young people are suggested by the illustrated books, 
fairy tales, and other works of fiction, specially written for them. 

Butterfly (For child of two to three). Short skirt of blue 
foulard, with an over-skirt of gauze ; low bodice, with a waist band 
fastened in front with bows ; two wings are attached to the middle of 
back, made of gauze, edged with fine wire ; silk stockings ; blue satin 
boots. Or, Canadian Butterfly: Bodice of green plush elongated 
into a point which falls onto the short, yellow tulle skirt ; short, puffed 
sleeves; gauze wings at back forming tunic ; butterfly on head ; green 
Moves and shoes with butterflies; butterfly fan. 

<T> 

Beauty (In Beauty and the Beast) in the Fairy-tale Quadrille, at 
Marlborough House, wore a white tulle dress, full bodice, belt, and 
pendant sleeves ; a classic robe of soft cashmere trimmed with gold is 
also suitable. 

Boy Blue. Dressed as Gainsborough’s Blue Boy. Black shoes, 
with larcre blue rosettes ; the same at knee ; blue stockings and velvet 
breeches ; close-fitting jacket, buttoning in front; blue cloak, fastened 
to shoulders, bordered with gold braid ; the sleeves to wrist, with 
Vandyke luce cuffs, and slashed twice inside the arm, showing white 
under-sleeve ; large lace collar ; plumed hat; hair curled. 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


I QO 

Clown {Ordinary) . Black or white shoes, white stockings with 
blue or red clocks; short white calico trousers with frills at knee, and 
close-fitting dress fantastically ornamented with blue and red ; face 
painted white, triangular patches of red on either cheek, very red lips ; 
close curling, stiff red point from back of head, which shakes at every 
movement. (In Louis XV’s reign). Loose trousers to knee; full 
jacket with large collar, confined at waist by belt; sleeves to wrist, 
with pendant ones over the hand, all made in white cotton or merino 
piped with red, and large red buttons in front; white felt pointed hat, 
with colored ribbons. 

Cavalier Dress {For boy , after Von Huglienburg). Dutch 
type. Broad-brimmed Flemish hat, with ostrich feathers ; doublet 
and waistcoat ; breeches to knee; sword-belt crossing bodice ; tie at 
throat; hat and plumes ; shoes with bows ; gauntlet gloves. 

Cherry Ripe, in large mob cap, muslin dress and fichu, with 
ribbon sash, and mittens, after Millais’ picture. 

Dutch Fisher Boy. Wooden shoes, full breeches, coarse 
knitted stockings ; striped blouse ; red tie and cap. 

Figaro ( Barber of Seville ). Dark green velvet Spanish jacket 
embroidered in silver; white satin waistcoat, green velvet breeches 
with pink ribbons ; pink sash with silver fringe, and necktie ; Spanish 
hat; pink bows on shoes, white silk stockings ; mandolin in hand. 

Greek {Boy). White plated fustanetta, or petticoat, wide silk 
belt, ornamented with gold; short embroidered vest, buttoned at 
throat ; jacket; full trousers to knee, and gaiters ; fez ; dagger stuck 
in belt. Made in satin, cashmere, or cloth. 

Greek Girl’s Dress. Skirt of wood-colored llama or nun’s 
veiling, braided with gold ; green velvet jacket, slashed and edged 
with gold braid ; flowing muslin sleeves ; necklet of gold leaves ; hair 
in plaits ; small round cap. 

Gainsborough {after Lady Barbara Yelvertori). A plain white 
muslin gown, with short sleeves, having ruches at the neck and elbows 
of rose-colored or blue ribbons; a large sash of corresponding color 
tied round the waist ; an elaborately-trimmed lace cap. Suitable for 
a girl of ten. 

Goblin. Tight-fitting justaucorps of red ; red Vandyke tunic ; 
winged hood with cape ; fork in hand. 

Jockey. Top-boots; satin breeches; jacket and cap of two 
colors ; whip in hand. 

Jack FIorner. Blue breeches ; a long waistcoat ; long-skirtecl 


FANCY DRESSES DESCRIBED. 


I 9 I 

red coat, with gold buttons down the front, and on the wide turn-back 
cuffs and pockets ; a black tricornered hat bordered with gold braid ; 
a plum dangling from watch-chain. 

Night and Morning {Boy). Half black, half white satin tights, 
juste-au-corps, and round hat; the face half black, the hair powdered 
on one side ; one glove black, one white ; the same with shoes. 

Monk. Long brown ample robe, with wide sleeves, and a cord 
round the waist. The Fransiscans have a small cape and hood ; 
the Capuchins’ cape is as large as that of an Inverness wrapper. 
Rosary at side. 

Page ( The Betrothed ). Tights; long skirted habit; sleeves 
with double puffs, slashed from elbow ; wide lace collar. ( Temp . 
Charles I). Velvet coat and breeches, with ribbon rosettes ; silk 
stockings, shoes with bows;'Vandyke collar and cuffs; satin-lined 
coat; large hat and feather; all to be of one tone. {Temp. Eliza¬ 
beth). Silk stockings; trunks; satin habit and shoulder-cloak, 
elaborately braided ; ruff and low-crowned hat. 

Paul Pry. High boots, trousers of red and white striped 
calico, tucked into them ; waistcoat to match, with large watch and 
chain, powdered bag-wig, blue tail-coat and brass buttons, umbrella 
under arm. 


PARLOR GAMES. 


INTELLECTUAL. GAMES IN WHICH THE PLAYERS 

TALK. 

THE STOOL OF REPENTANCE. 

One of the company leaves the room as the culprit, whilst another, 
who is selected as public accuser, goes the round of the circle col¬ 
lecting in whispers the various accusations each of the party has to 
make against the culprit. This being done, the latter is then brought 
in again and placed on a stool in the middle of the circle. He is then 
addressed by the public accuser, in the following terms: “ I regret to 
state that you are accused of several very heinous and dreadful 
offenses, amongst others, of—” here the accuser states one of the 

accusations that was whispered to him, which we will suppose to be 

« 

such as—“ making your hair curl every night with curl-papers,” or 
something of the same kind ; for it should be remembered in playing 
this game, that though a little harmless raillery is quite. permissible, 
yet any wounding or rude accusations should be avoided, as likely to 
disturb the harmony and good feeling of the party. The culprit, after 
hearing the accusation made against him, must strive to discover 
amongst the varied expressions on the faces in the circle around him, 
who has made the accusation. If he cannot guess the first, the accused 
passes on to a second and so on, till he either guesses one, when he 
gives his place as culprit to the one guessed, or if he cannot guess 
any, he must leave the room again while a fresh round of accusations 
are collected against him. So the game proceeds till the accused has 
discovered one of his accusers. 

If the accusations are carefully confined to good-humored raillery, 

192 



PARLOR GAMES. 


T 93 


this is at once a mirthful amusement and a good school for the study 
of “Expression,” or, as it is called, “the Science of Lavater.” 

CROSS QUESTIONS AND CROOKED ANSWERS. 

This game is played by the company first ranging themselves in 
a circle. No. i then asks No. 2, in a whisper, a question—No. 2 
answers. No. 2 asks in a whisper another question from No. 3, No. 
3 asks No. 4, and so the whispered questions and answers are given 
and received until the last of the circle is reached (we will for con¬ 
venience say No. 10), who then asks No. 1 a question. This having 
been thus completed, No. 1 begins by saying, “The question was put 
to me whether so—so, and the answer was” (the answer given by No. 
2 to No. Ts question). We will suppose, as an illustration of this, 
that No. 10 asks No. 1 whether she likes dancing? No. 1 answers, 
“Yes, if I have a good partner.” No. 1 had previously asked No. 2 
whether she had been out that day? No. 2 answers, “No, I did not 
go.” Therefore when No. 1 begins, she will say as follows : The 
question was put to me, “ Whether I liked dancing?” and the answer 
was, “ No, I did not go.” No. 2, also, says, “The question was put 
to me whether I went out to-day?” and then she will add the answer 
to No. 3 to her own question. In this way this game goes the round 
of the circle. It is always somewhat puzzling for very young children. 


/ 


QUOTATIONS. 


One of the party repeats a tolerably well-known quotation from 
a famous poet, such as Shakspeare, Milton, or our favorite of more 
modern days—Tennyson. The first who can say the author’s name 
after the last word of the quotation has been said has a right to make 
another quotation after the first. We will suppose one of the party 


begins with 

o 


“ Fare thee well! 

Ill-weaved ambition, how much art thou shrunk! 
When that this body did contain a spirit, 

A kingdom for it was too small a bound ; 

But now two paces of the vilest earth 

Is room enough. This earth that bears thee dead, 

Bears not alive so stout a gentleman.” 


The first who calls out “Shakspeare” after this may, perhaps, 
continue with— 


“ Our life is twofold. Sleep hath its own world, 
A boundary between the things misnamed 


13 




i 9 4 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


Death and existence. Sleep hath its own world 
And a wide realm of wild reality, 

And dreams in their development have breath, 

And tears, and tortures, and the touch of joy.” 

The first of the party who names “ Byron ” after the quotation 
has then a right to begin another. 

THE SECRET THAT TRAVELS. 

This is a short but amusing game. It must be played either in 
a line or by a circle of players. The first whispers a secret to her 
neighbor, who passes it on to the next, and so on, always, of course, 
in a whisper. When it arrives at last at the end of the row or circle, 
the last person repeats it aloud. ^The rest must repeat, in turn, what 
his or her secret was as given to him or her, and so the party will be 
amused by the various ways of telling one thing, and by the varieties 
of additions and omissions that have occurred on the road. The 
players should not be told beforehand what the secret is afterward to 
be exposed, as their carelessness in transmission adds to the amuse¬ 
ment of the game. 

THE INITIAL LETTERS. 

This game is played much in the same way as Proverbs. A 
word only is thought of by the company, the guesser being out of the 
room. When he returns, however, he walks up to the first player 
and stands opposite to him or her, until a word is pronounced, which 
must begin with the first letter of the word agreed upon. We will 
suppose that the word Volunteer has been chosen : 


No. 

I 

says- 

—Valentine. 

No. 

2 

(( 

Omnibus. 

No. 

3 

< < 

Lamb. 

No. 

4 

< i 

Uniform. 

No. 

5 

i i 

Nobody. 

No. 

6 

< t 

Tory. 

No. 

7 

u 

Eagle. 

No. 

8 

i i 

Every one. 

No. 

9 

< ( 

Robber. 


The guesser, of course, puts the initials together and exclaims, 
It is Volunteer ; but there is often hesitation both on the part of 
guesser and player, and then a forfeit must be given. 



PARLOR GAMES. 


*95 


MAGIC MUSIC. 

One of the party who has sufficient ear and appreciation of music 
is sent out of the room. Another, who can modulate well on the 
pia-no, is seated at it. The company then determine on something 
that the absent player is to do in the room on his return. When he 
first re-enters the room, the music is to be loud and decided; it is to 
soften and slacken in time as the player approaches the object or part 
of the room with or in which he is to do something, but grows loud 
again when he appears to show but little comprehension of his task. 
We will suppose that task to be to take a lamp off the table and blow 
it out. As the guesser approaches the lamp the music grows softer, 
when he perhaps touches it, softer still; he will then perhaps walk 
about with the lamp, the music becomes louder again ; he then stops, 
listens, and finally blows it out. The music then becomes very loud 
and animated and he is told that all his task is performed. 

CUPID. 

The players are in this game all arranged in a row, each one 
representing a letter of the alphabet. One of the players, chosen as 
the leader of the game, seats him or herself at the end of the room. 
If a gentleman, he must be called Jupiter; if a lady, Venus. The 
players then, in turn, come forward to Jupiter or Venus, to personate 
Cupid before him or her, in a manner expressed by a word com¬ 
mencing with the letter of the alphabet they have adopted. 

For instance, the first one, who represents A, says, Cupid comes 
Acting (at the same time he or she must walk across the room in a 
theatrical manner, toward Jupiter or Venus, and then take up his 
station behind her). Then the next one says, Cupid comes Barking, 
and must come barking like a dog across the room. The next (C) 
says, Cupid comes Crossly, and must come with a very adverse 
expression of face and manner. And so on until the alphabet has 
been represented. As there is often a difficulty in thinking of words, 
we subjoin a list of some:— 

Cupid comes Affectionate—Angry—Afflicted—Astonished. 

Cupid comes Bowing—Blowing—Bravely—Bellowing. 

Cupid comes Carelessly—Cantering—Chasseeing—Cautiously. 

Cupid comes Dancing—Determined—Dejectedly—Dawdling. 

Cupid comes Eating—Excited—Eagerly—Exhausted. 

Cupid comes Fastly—Fanning—Foolishly—Fondly. 

Cupid comes Giving—Galloping—Grumbling—Gasping. 



ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


196 

Cupid comes Holding—Hopping—Humbly—Happy. 

Cupid comes Idly—Impatient—Impertinent—Irritably. 

Cupid comes Joking—Jumping—Jolly—Joyous. 

Cupid comes Kissing—Kicking—Kindly—Knocking. 

Cupid comes Lame—Leaping—Laughing—Looking. 

Cupid comes Madly—Merry—Marching—Meddling. 

Cupid comes Naughty—Nimbly—Nipping—Nobly. 

Cupid comes Openly—Originally—Officiously—Offensively. 

Cupid comes Pleasing—Playing—Proudly—Puffing. 

Cupid comes Queerly—Quaking—Quietly—Quacking. 

Cupid comes Running—Reading—Roaring—Rudely. 

Cupid comes Sadly—Simply—Singing—Snapping. 

Cupid comes Talking—Teasing—Tyrannical—Tamely. 

Cupid comes Urgent—Upbraiding—Untidy—Undaunted. 

Cupid comes Victorious—Veiled—Violently—Vowing. 

Cupid comes Warbling—Warlike—Waspish—Winged. 

Cupid comes Xalting—or omit the letter. 

Cupid comes Yawning—Yelling—Youthful—Yielding. 

Cupid comes Zigzag—Zealous—Zephyr-like. 

Any one who fails in performing their letter must do so at the 
command of Jupiter or Venus, or else pay a forfeit. It is an amusing 
game when the players think promptly of their words. 

THE TRADE. 

The leader of the game commences by saying, “ I have appren¬ 
ticed my son to (naming a trade), and the first thing he made (used or 
sold) was (here mention the initial letters of the article thought of).’ 1 
Whoever guesses first what they represent has the next turn in the 
game. As an example, let us suppose five or six persons playing. 
The first begins, “ I apprenticed my son to a linen-draper, and the 
first thing he sold was a B. S. D.” 

Black satin dress? 

Wrong. 

Blue satin ? 

Wrong again. 

Blue Silk Dress ? 

Yes. 

The next then says, “ I apprenticed my daughter to a milliner, 
and the first thing she made was a G. A ” 

“ Green apron,” says No. 3, who continues, “I apprenticed my 
son to a carpenter, and the first thing he made was a B. S.” 

Bedstead ? 


PARLOR GAMES. 


197 


Not right. Try again. 

A box stool? 

Yes. 

And so on, till all have had their turn. 

I LOVE MY LOVE. 

The letter A, or any other letter, may be taken to commence the 
game. Each player must take the same letter, until it has gone the 
round of the whole party. But any one who repeats a word that has 
been previously used must pay a forfeit. We add an example for 
three letters : 

A—I love my love with an A because he is Amiable, I hate him 
with an A because he is Angry, he came from America, lives on 
Anchovies, his name is Alfred, and I will give him an Amethyst for a 
keepsake. 

B—-I love my love with a B because he is Benevolent, I hate 
him with a B because he is Bearish, he came from Brighton, lives on 
Berries, his name is Benjamin, and I will give him a Box for a 
remembrance. 

C—I love my love with a C because he is Careful, I hate him 
with a C because he is Curious, he came from Corsica, lives on Cab¬ 
bages, his name is Charles, and I will give him a Carbuncle for a 
keepsake. 

THE ACROSTIC SALE. 

This is a very good game for the young, as it improves their 
spelling. The leader of the game begins by announcing he has just 
bought some article, which must have as many letters in its name as 
there are players amongst the party. For instance, if there are ten 
playing, there must be ten letters ; we will therefore imagine the article 
to be a butter-dish. The leader announces that he will barter his 
butter-dish foi as many articles as the players offer him ; each article, 
however, must have an initial letter corresponding with the order of 
letters found in the word butter-dish. Thus, with a pencil and paper 
in hand, the leader notes down the offers made him, the list of which 
he must read out, and inform the company what he means to do with 
each article. We will suppose him to commence in the following 
manner : 

“ I have just come home, after having bought in the city a costly 
silver butter-dish. As it cost me more than I find I can afford to pay, 






198 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


I propose to barter it to the present party,” (turning to his nearest 
neighbor). “ What will you give me for the letter B ? ” This one 
and then the other nine players each make their offers in succession. 
The leader writes them down. After which he says, “You propose 


tor my- 


“ B 

-a Ball. 

u 

-an Ugly mug 

T 

-a Timepiece. 

T 

-a Turnspit. 

E- 

-an Ewer. 


D 

I- 

S- 


-a Dog. 


-an Ivory-knife, 
-a Saucepan. 


H—a Hammer.’’ 

R—a Round table. 


“Very wed, I shall accept your offers, and this is what I shall 
do with all the things. The dog I shall keep and feed every day my¬ 
self. The ivory knife I shall mend my pens with, when I write to the 
donor. The ball we will all have a game with to-day. The ugly mug 
I will use every day to drink beer out of, when I am seated at the 
round table at my dinner. The saucepan will boil the potatoes for 
my dinner. In the ewer I shall first wash my hands. Without a 
turnspit my mutton could not be roasted, and my meat would most 
probably be overdone if it were not for the timepiece to keep my cook 
in order. After thus disposing of most of the things I am sure to 
find the hammer most serviceable in nailing up the fruit trees against 
my garden wall.” This round of the game being thus played out, 
one of the others becomes barterer, and makes a new acrostic scale. 


INTELLECTUAL GAMES IN WHICH WRITING IS 

REOUIRED. 

BOUT RIMES. 

This game bearing a French name, for which we have never yet 
invented a significant substitute, but which means, literally, “ rhymed 
ends” of lines, was originally invented by the French. The incident 
that first suggested it as a game was the distress of a poor poet, ac¬ 
customed to compose sonnets at so much the line for lovers, at being 
robbed of his skeleton verses, “ bout rimes.” The courtiers of Louis 
IV began to adopt rhymes and try their skill in filling them up. The 
game is of some standing in England, as Horace Walpole mentions 
that he had the rhymes : 

“ brook” “ I,’’ 

“ crook ” “ why,” 

✓ 7 










PARLOR GAMES. 


I 99 


given him to compose averse with. He produced the following :— 

“ I sit with my toes in a brook, 

And if any one asks me for why, 

I gives’em a tap with my crook, 

And ’tis sentiment makes me, says I.’ 

Our readers, perhaps, already comprehend from the above ex¬ 
ample that the game is played by giving to different individuals of 
the same party similar rhyming terminations which they must each, in 
their different styles, fill up. For instance :— 

the rhymes “ still ” “ garden.” 

“ hill ” “ face.” 

u trace. ” 

“ grace.” 

“ pardon.” 

Longfellow, in “ The Golden Legend,” has gracefully filled up 
these with what follows :— 

“The night is silent, the wind is 6 still,’’ 

The moon is looking from yonder ‘ hill’ 

Down upon convent, and grove, and ‘ garden ; ’ 

The clouds have passed away from her * face,’ 

Leaving behind them no sorrowful ‘ trace ; ’ 

Only the tender and quiet ‘ grace ’ 

Of one whose heart has been healed with * pardon. ’ ’ 

This game always produces merriment and amusement by the 
variety of styles, comic and sentimental, into which the same rhymes 
may be turned. 

ACROSTICS. 

An acrostic was at one time a very favorite mode of addressing 
a compliment or satire to any one, It is a verse or sonnet, the first 
word of each line of which must always commence with one of the 
letters of the person’s name to whom the acrostic is addressed—the 
commencing letter of each line following in the same order as they do 
in the name itself, so that when written they may be read downward. 
One specimen of this style will best explain our meaning. The name 
is Philip, to whom the following is addressed :— 

P egtops and Sardinian caps 
H ave a charm for some, perhaps ; 

I sidore may cut and curl, 



200 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


L ost on me moustachio’s twirl ; 

I can see without a sigh 
P hilip, pink of vanity. 

CONSEQUENCES. 

A long strip of paper and a pencil are required for this game. 
One of the party then becomes the leader, and tells the first player 
to write down a description of a gentleman or lady. After doing so, 
the first player folds down the paper over what he has written, and 
passes it on to his nearest neighbor. The leader then gives a second 
order, such as the name to be written. This done, the paper is folded, 
and passed on in the same way as before, till the game is played out. 
The leader then reads the contents of the papers aloud, and it be¬ 
comes very amusing from its inconsistencies. The directions of the 
leader may be either according to choice or something like the fol¬ 
lowing : 

1. Begin by writing a description of a young lady. 

2. Her name. 

3. An adjective descriptive of a gentleman. 

4 . His name and residence. 

5. Describe the meeting of these two. 

6. Give a date or period when this occurred. 

7. Put a speech into the gentleman’s mouth. 

8. A reply from the lady. 

9. Tell the consequences. 

10. And what the world said of it, 

The paper we may imagine would read thus : 

“ A lovely, but ignorant and forlorn young lady, named Anna 
Maria Kitty Sophia, met a showy but too insinuating foreigner, 
named Pierrot, whose last place of residence was Siberia. They met 
on the sands of Scarborough, and were both immediately struck by 
each other’s appearance. It was moonlight. The shades of night 
enveloped the landscape. He said, ‘ Thou art lovelier than the coming 
of the fairest flower in spring.’ She replied, ‘ Go, forget me !’ The 
consequences were—they were married, and the world said, ‘It was 
hard on her relations.’ ” 

RHAPSODIES. 

In this game a leader is required, who gives out several short 
sentences to the party playing, each of whom must write them down, 



PARLOR GAMES. 


201 


and then compose a rhapsody, introducing the sentences in the same 
order as they were given. The sentences should be mixed in char¬ 
acter, so as to afford some little difficulties to the rhapsody-writers in 
weaving them together. We will give a few examples: “The in¬ 
come tax ; a nosegay of flowers ; the Empress Eugenie ; walk by 
moonlight; how are you ? down with all knavish tricks. v These sen¬ 
tences may be woven together in the following style : “ Desiring to 

serve my country, and cordially hating the income tax , I thought of 
the best means of effecting its repeal. After some deliberation, I re¬ 
solved on presenting a nosegay of flowers to the Empress Eugenie as 
the most certain method of obtaining an audience. She proposed to 
come, accompanied by the Emperor, and take a moonlight walk in the 
Tuilleries Gardens. I was to meet the two, the password being pre¬ 
viously agreed upon as IIow are you ? and the response Down with 
their knavish tricks This game is always amusing and certain to be 
popular. 

ANAGRAMS. 

This game is played with alphabets also, but instead of places, 
cities, or countries, the sentences or words must compose the names of 
some celebrated man or woman, for instance: 

“ William Shakespeare—Make we all his praise;” “Alfred Ten¬ 
nyson—Not lend say fern “William—I am Will“ Charles James 
Fox—I search lame foxes “ Salvator Rosa—Roar, toss, lava etc. 
William Oldys, the well-known bibliographer, composed on his own 
name a very famous anagram : 

“ In word and William a friend to you, 

And one friend Old is worth a hundred new.” 

The anagram is generally more easy and graceful when intro¬ 
duced by a couple of accessory rhyming lines. 

THE NARRATIVE. 

An amusing game, which is played by the company all assembling 
round a table, with pen and ink before them—a large sheet of paper 
on which the narrative is to be written, being provided. After a name 
for the story is agreed upon, the leader of the game commences by 
writing two or three lines, his contribution ending by a word placed at 

the commencement of the line intended to follow his lines. None of 

% 

his part, excepting this word, should be visible to the next writer, the 
paper being doubled down so as to conceal it—the great amusement 






202 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


of the game is the variety of incongruous ideas and inconsistencies 
thus strung together. As an example of this, we will suppose a party 
of seven are writing, their names being Herbert, John and Edwin; 
Susan, Henrietta, Louisa and Clara. Herbert is made the leader, and 
proposes that the narrative shall be called— 

The History of the Jones Family. 

This being agreed upon, he then commences writing thus: 

H erbert. In a small country town in Connecticut, not long ago, 
there existed the certainly very numerous family of Jones, whose 
adventures were remarkable 

Susan. For their elegance, high-bred manners, and grace of 
demeanor. Notwithstanding this and the advantages of unbounded 
wealth, none of them marry young 

H enrietta. Enough, looking more like an elder sister than a 
mother, to such an immense family ; yet this mother 

Louisa. “ Is the battle o’er ?” inquired the heart-broken Isola 
Jones, as she gazed afar 

Clara. At a youthful cavalier, mounted on a thoroughbred 
hunter, leisurely riding up the lane ; a smile 

John. Illumined the features of General Grant, as Jones, of the 
90th, listened to the orders given, and leading his own 

Edwin. History, his unfortunate, and never-to-be-forgotten 
adventures were a source. 

The above is a specimen of the strange nonsense that may get 
strung together in this game, which, however, seldom fails to afford 
considerable amusement to the players of it. 

MARRIAGES AND DIVORCES. 

These two games may be described at once, as there is so much 
similarity in the manner in which they are both played. 

The party first seat themselves round a table ; the ladies on one 
side, the gentlemen on the other. A couple are left out, however, to 
form the tribunal. Every gentleman and lady who are seated oppo¬ 
site to each other are the future spouses in the game of marriages or 
divorces. Each person then takes a sheet of paper, and without any 
concert with the other, writes out a sketch of his own character. 

When this has been done—and the sketches should be executed as 

* 

promptly as possible—the future spouses, most distant from the 
tribunal, are called up, sheet of paper in hand, to hear read aloud the 


PARLOR GAMES. 


203 


defects or virtues of which they are self-accused. If a great likeness 
is declared to exist between the two characters, they are pronounced 
married, and invited to form part of the tribunal. If, on the contrary, 
the two characters are totally opposed to each other, the tribunal 
declares it no marriage, and they must each pay a forfeit. 

The game of divorces is played in the same way, with this dif¬ 
ference, that if the characters are found similar, the marriage is con¬ 
firmed, and they are each required to give a forfeit for having 
demanded a separation ; whilst, if the characters are opposed, divorce 
is pronounced, and the pair are invited to augment the number of 
judges. 


THE TORN LETTER. 

A lady accuses a gentleman of having written certain injurious 
statements regarding her, and asks what can possibly justify such 
conduct. He declares that the letter has been torn in half ; were the 
whole before her, it would be found that it was extremely favorable 
and flattering. 

Example. 

u 1 confess to a great contempt for 
Miss Smith, whom I consider 
the most ridiculous person 
in the world. She is entirely 
without sense, heart, or beauty. 

The man whom she may 
love is much to be pitied ; the 
man who could love her, 
if any such exist, is 
entitled to our execration.” 

After this offensive specimen, the gentleman has only to add to 
each line the following words : 

“ —the idiots who cannot admire 
—charming, otherwise I should be 
—breathing. She is without equal 
—faultless. Only those who, being 
—feel envious, could detract from her. 

—prefer, and who cannot appreciate her 
—crime of separating her from the 
—sincerely few would be responsible for ; 

—not so much selfish thoughtlessness 


204 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


GEOGRAPHICAL GAME. 

This game is an agreeable way of impressing on the minds of 
the young any bits of information they may accidentally pick up, 
either in their readings, or by travel. A number of names of towns, 
cities, or countries are written on slips of paper and placed in a bag. 
These are then drawn out by the various members of the party, and 
they.must give some little information referring to the city or country, 
the name of which has been drawn by them. Suppose Paris, Munich, 
and the Tyrol are the names selected, the style of description might 
be as follows : 

Paris is famous for its industrial arts, bronzes, the famous Gobelin 
tapestries, clocks, watches, lace, and every variety of beautiful orna¬ 
ment in ormulu for furniture and houses are among some of the 
tasteful products of which we think with the greatest pleasure. Their 
artists are also famous, and the city itself is one of the most beautiful 
in the world. 

Munich is a city famous for its beautiful buildings and its school 
of art. Bronzes and paintings on glass are the things that are there 
most excelled in. 

The Tyrol —One of the most lovely corners of Europe with, 
regard to its scenery ; is peopled by one of the handsomest nations 
in the world. In its villages they devote themselves to wood-carving; 
to the breeding of canary birds, which some one member of the 
family travels with in cages all over Europe ; and to making artificial 
flowers from feathers, which are used for decorating the churches. 
The people are devotedly fond of music, and they play their moun¬ 
tain airs on a small but touching instrument called the zither. They 
have always been famous for their patriotic spirit and attachment to 
the Austrian monarchy. In the wars of the French Revolution op¬ 
posing the troops of Napoleon with a heroic resistance, and forming 
the best soldiers, or, at least, the most skillful marksmen, in the Aus¬ 
trian army. Their national melodies have a strong affinity to those 
of the Swiss. Many of the Tyrolese are excellent lapidaries. 


CATCH GAMES AND TRICK GAMES. 

THE CHAIR. 

This game must commence by one of the parties in the secret 
making a boast of the strength of his will, and of the influence he 


PARLOR GAMES. 


205 


possesses over the actions of others at his pleasure. There will, of 
course, be a fair proportion of doubters in the room. One of the 
most vehement of these is selected, and is entreated to allow himself 
to be operated upon, with an assurance that, however determined his 
resistance, he will in the end yield to the stronger will of the boasting 
person. 

“For instance,” says the latter, “if you mount on that chair 
(pointing to one), I can make you come down with a couple of 
words.’’ 

The doubter shakes his head, but unwittingly mounts upon the 
chair. The boaster then hastens to say, “ Come down,” once or twice. 
The doubter, of course, refuses. The boaster walks away, leaving 
the doubter perched on the chair, to come down after an interval of 
time, sooner or later, in obedience to the command given. Our 
readers will, of course, perceive that the secret of success in this trick 
is to get the victim to place himself in a position which amongst a 
large party of friends it is not particularly pleasant to remain long in, 
and one which in the common course of events must be forsaken 
sooner or later. The agony of the victim is only prolonged if, as 
often occurs, he persists in holding his position for half an evening, as 
he is always declared defeated when he descends at last from the 
chair. 

THE DIVINER. 

One of the party leaves the room, his confederate, of course, 
remaining. A word is fixed upon by the company as one to be guessed 
when given him amongst a number of other words. The confederate 
must always place it after some object having four legs, such as a table, 
a chair, a horse, etc. For instance : Mary is the confederate, and the 
party have secretly confided to her the word “book.” Harry, the 
guesser, re-enters the room, and then Mary says, “We were thinking 
of giving you something for your house, and we are puzzled to know 
what you would like best—a clock, an inkstand, a butter-dish, an easy 
chair, a book , a mirror, a paper-knife, etc.” Of course, Harry replies 
immediately, “A book.” As it comes after chair, an object with four 
legs, he knows it to be the word fixed upon ; the confederate must of 
course take care not to mention two objects with four legs. 

THE DEAF MAN. 

Some one who is ignorant of the game is requested to play the 
part of deaf man, and is told that he must say three times in 



206 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


succession to different speakers, “ I am deaf; I can’t hear.” The fun 
of the game is when he has promised to fulfill this, to go up to him with 
every variety of agreeable proposal ; such as bringing a pretty young 
lady and proposing he shall salute her, offering him gifts, etc., to all 
of which he is bound to reply, under penalty of a forfeit, “ I am deaf; 
I can’t hear.” The fourth time, however, he is requested to perform 
some disagreeable or humiliating act, such as sing a comic song, etc., 
to which he must answer, “ I can hear now,” and do what he is 
requested or pay a forfeit. 

SCISSORS CROSSED OR NOT CROSSED. 

Every one in turn passes to his neighbor a pair of scissors, saying, 
either, “ I give you my scissors crossed,” or, “ I give you my scissors 
uncrossed.” If the player says the first, he must carelessly, and in a 
natural manner, cross either his legs or feet whilst he is saying this. 
If, however, his speech is, “ I give you my scissors uncrossed,” he must 
be careful to keep both hands separate. Those uninitiated in this 
game render themselves liable to pay forfeits, without knowing the 
reason why ; their surprise, until followed by an explanation, adding 
to the amusement. 

TOMBOLA. 

This is an amusing method of collecting money for any charitable 
purpose. A number of articles, toys, and pretty knickknacks, are to 
be set up in a lottery. One of these articles is destined as a discom¬ 
fiture to some luckless wight. This lot must be something of 
small value, wrapped up in endless envelopes of cotton wool and 
paper, so as to conceal its make and substance. It should be then (in 
its packed-up state) set amongst the other uncovered lots on the table. 

The master of the house then takes up a pack of playing cards, 
and according to their several wishes, distributes them amongst the 
drawers ; a price agreed on beforehand being set on each card. 

He then turns up the remainder of the pack, calling out the 
names of the cards as he lays them down in succession. Those who 
have drawn similar cards of other suits place them beside the ones 
called out. 

When this has been all gone through, those who remain holders 
of cards similar to those (though of other suits) under the lots are 
declared the winners ; of what, however, remains to be shown. The 
card that lies under each lot is then called out, and whoever has a 
similar one in his hand is declared possessor of the lot. 


PARLOR GAMES. 


207 


As the drawing goes on, those who have failed in drawing lots 
will most likely venture again, the excitement will increase as lot 
after lot disappears off the table, and the few last drawers are left 
with feelings of trepidation lest their own card should be similar to that 
lying un der the “ sell v lot, till at last it is drawn by one, who, with 
feelings of mortification, unrolls layer after layer of paper and cotton 
wool, to reveal at last some comparatively worthless article. At the 
end of the lottery the money is collected. 

THE MAGIC WAND. 

This game also requires a confederate. One of the party offers 
to leave the room, saying, such are her powers of divination, that she 
can tell, even when out of the room, who a magic wand held by 
another stops at. The holder of the magic wand, who, of course, must 
be in the secret, mutters some cabalistic words over it ; the diviner 
leaves the room, whilst some one fills up the keyhole with paper, and 
then the magic wand goes round, the holder saying, “ It moves, it 
moves, it moves,” until it stops. “ Mr. Mansfield,” calls out the 
diviner from behind the door ; true enough it was before Mr. Mansfield 
the magic wand stopped ; the secret being that it must stop before the 
one who spoke last as the diviner left the room. 

THE ASSERTION. 

One of the party, perhaps a delicate looking lady, boasts that 
such is her strength she can bring the strongest person down on a 
feather, however determined his resistance, Of course, an incred¬ 
ulous smile greets this declaration, but she has permission to try her 
“worst.” Upon this, the lady says, “Prepare yourself in your best 
attitude of defense ; I will return in a moment.” Whilst she is out of 
the room, the strong man fixes himself firmly and determinedly on a 
sofa, with arms akimbo. The lady re-enters, carrying in her hand a 
small feather, evidently just extracted from some soft pillow. The strong 
man smiles again, whilst the lady walks round and round the sofa, ut¬ 
tering cabalistic words and pretended incantations ; suddenly pausing, 
she turns to the strong man, and begs him to bend and to examine 
her feather. He does so cautiously, suspecting his occupation will be 
taken advantage of to have a sly push given him, when the lady says, 
“ Look well ; don t you see I have brought you down on a 

feather ? ” 


208 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


THE HAT. 

Tell the company that you will drink a glass of water placed un¬ 
der a hat without touching it. Put the glass of water under the hat, 
and then both under a table, with a cover on it. Then put your head 
under the table-cover, make a noise as if drinking, and when you rise 
from under the table wipe your mouth. One of the party will then 
lift the hat to see whether you have really drunk the water, on which 
you will take up the glass and empty it, saying, “ I told you I would 
drink the water without touching the hat.” 

FORFEITS. 

When the time comes for crying the forfeits, the players are often 
at a loss ; we therefore desire to assist our young friends by the fol¬ 
lowing list. 

When they are cried, the forfeits should all be laid in a basket: 
the one who is to name the penalties attached to each, should kneel 
down blindfolded before another member of the company, who takes 
up in turn each article contributed as forfeits, and says : “ Here’s a 
pretty thing, and a very pretty thing ; what is to be done to the owner 
of this pretty thing?” The one who is blindfolded then pronounces 
judgment such as follows : 

1. Say three flattering speeches to ladies without uttering the 
letter C. 

2. Recite four lines from Shakspeare. 

3. Kneel to the prettiest, bow to the wittiest, and kiss the one 
you love best. 

4. Not to speak until a question is asked you (the company all 
take care not to ask this one a question for some time after.) 

5. To find another line of poetry that rhymes with one given 

you. 

6. Ask a riddle. 

7. Recite a piece of comic poetry. 

8. Not to speak for ten minutes. 

9. To dance a pas seul. 

10. Kiss some one through the tongs. 

11. To imitate, without laughing, any animal named. 

12. Say “ A ragged rascal ran around the rugged rocks” five 
times without making a mistake. 

13. Repeat the names of all the presidents. 


PARLOR GAMES. 209 

14. Give the name of some one celebrated in history for his 
crimes. 

15. Laugh in one corner, cry in another, yawn in a third. 

16. Spell Constantinople by a syllable at a time. (As soon as 
the speller arrives at Constanti—, all the company call out “ No, no ;** 
if the speller is puzzled, he begins again, and must pay another forfeit 
for doing so. If he, however, does not stop when “ No, no” is called 
out, his forfeit is restored to him.) 

1 7. Repeat the following : “ Peter Piper picked a peck of pepper; 
if Peter Piper picked a peck of pepper, where is the peck of pepper 
Peter Piper picked ? ” 

18. Ask a question that can only be answered by “Yes.” The 
question is, “What does Y-e-s spell ?” 

19. Dance a hornpipe. 

20. Bite an inch off the poker. (This is done by making a bite 
at the distance of an inch from the poker.) 

21. Pay a compliment, and undo it afterward, to every lady in 
the room. 

22. Put your hand through the keyhole. (This is done by writ¬ 
ing “ your hand” on a piece of paper and putting it through the key¬ 
hole. 

23. To go all round the room and tell every one you are going 
to see His Holiness the Pope—that you will be glad to take what¬ 
ever is given you to him. (Every one to give some heavy article to 
be carried to the farthest corner of the room—all the articles at once.) 

24. To say to each person in the room, “ You cannot say bo to a 
goose.” 

ADJECTIVES. 

This is also a very amusing game. One of the players writes a 
letter, which of course he does not show, leaving a blank for every 
adjective. He then asks each player in turn around the table for an 
adjective, filling up the blank spaces with the adjectives as he receives 
them. 

The following short letter will explain the game better than a 
long description : 

My detestable Friend, 

In answer to your amiable letter, I am silly to inform you that 
the dirty and degraded Miss Jones sends you her most fallacious 
thanks for your kindness, and bids me tell you she will always think of 


14 




2 1 © 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


you as the vainest and most adorable friend she ever had. As for 
that sagacious fellow, Smith, he is such a delight fill ass, such a filthy 
and eminent muff, you need not fear he will prove a very complicated 
rival. 

Believe me, my foolish fellow, 

Yours, etc. 


CRAMBO. 


This is a game only for those who have some facility in rhyming 
and versifying ; with half a dozen such it will always afford unlimited 
amusement, It is played as follows : 

The players sit round the table, each with a pencil and two slips 
of paper ; on one he writes a question—any question that occurs to 
him, the quainter the better—and on the other, a noun. 

These slips are put into two separate baskets or hats, and shaken 
up well, so as to be thoroughly mixed. The hats or baskets are then 
passed round, and each player draws two slips at random, one from 
either basket, so that he has one slip with a question, and one with a 
noun. 

The players thus furnished now proceed to write on a third slip 
each a practical answer to the question before him. The answer must 
consist of at least four lines, and must introduce the aforementioned 
noun. 

For instance, supposing a player to have drawn the question, 
Who killed Cock Robin? and the noun Jaw, he might answer some¬ 
what as follows : 


“ I, said the Sparrow, 

With my bow and arrow, 

If you’d known him too 
Youd have wished him at Harrow; 

With his cheek, and his jaw, 

And his dandy red vest, 

He became such a bore, 

Such a regular pest! 

’Twas really no joke ; 

Such troublesome folk 

Must not be surprised if they’re promptly suppressed.” 

Or, as a more concise example, question asked, Do you bruise 
your oats? Noun, Cheese. Answer, 

“ As I don’t keep a steed, 

For oats I’ve no need ; 




PARLOR GAMES. 


2 I I 


For myself, when my own private taste I would please, 

I prefer wheaten bread to oat-cake with my cheese.’’ 

Here is another example of veritable crambo rhymes. The 
question was, “ Can you pronounce Llyndgynbwlch ?” and the noun 
“ Oil.” Answer as follows : 

“ Pronouncing Llyndgynbwlch 
My glottis will spoil, 

Unless lubricated 
With cocoa-nut oil.” 

There happened to be cocoa-nut cakes on the table. 

These will be amply sufficient as guides to the method of playing 
the game. They are not offered as models of poetry or diction, but 
as just the sort of things anybody might write on the spur of the 
moment, and therefore better suited for our purpose than any more 
finished and elaborate productions. 

Of course this game can only be played by those who will take 
an interest in it, and who possess some little facility of versification. 
A player who, after half an hour or so spent in puzzling his brain and 
beating about for rhymes and sense, cannot succeed in turning out a 
few lines of doggerel, had better, for his own sake and that of others, 
turn his attention to other and less intellectual amusements. 

But we would not alarm any timid players—we have no wish to 
seem to require any great poetical gifts in the player, though of 
course, the more witty and brilliant they are, the more delightful and 
interesting the game ; the merest doggerel is quite sufficient for all 
purposes, and the facility of stringing verses together will be found 
to increase rapidly with every day’s practice. None but a veritable 
dunce need despair of taking at least a creditable part in this very 
amusing game. 

DEFINITIONS. 

The theory of this game is very simple, but the opening it gives 
for wit and satire is simply unbounded, and for pure intellectuality it 
stands unrivaled amongst evening games. 

The players sit round a table each with a pencil and piece of 
paper: a noun is then selected at random from a list, or in any con¬ 
venient way, and each is then bound to furnish an original definition. 
This done, another is given out, and similarly defined. 

When a convenient number have been thus disposed of, the papers 
are handed up to the president, who is chosen for the occasion, and 
the several definitions read aloud. 


V 


212 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


Some very brilliant impromptus are sometimes flung off in this 
manner; and we would strongly advise, where the game is much 
played, that a book should be kept for the enshrinement of the special 
flowers of wit. 

We offer a few here as examples, not so much for imitation, but 
as illustrations of the modus operandi , or perhaps we might rather say, 
ludendi\ 

NOUN-MIRROR. 

Definitions. 

(a) The rarest gift the fays can give us. 

We see oursels as ithers see us. 

(d) The. vain man’s most intimate friend ; the wise man’s ac¬ 
quaintance. 

(i c ) The type of perfect unselfishness, giving away all that it 
receives, and retaining nothing for itself. 

(d) The hermit of modern life : it spends all its time reflecting 
on the vanities of the world. 

NOUN—PROSPERITY. 

Definitions. 

(a) The reward of exertion. 

(d) Man’s greatest temptation. 

(Y) The world’s touchstone of merit. 

(d) What each man most thinks he has a right to expect for 
himself, and is least inclined to desire for his neighbor. 

( e) The pass-key that unlocks the gates of society. 

(/) A prize in the lottery of fate. 

NOUN-HUMANITY. 

Definitions. 

(а) The best abused virtue in the calendar. 

( б ) The highest triumph of civilization. 

(Y) The basis of Christian charity. 

(d) The most God-like of virtues. 

(e) A common cloak for cupidity. 

(f) The begging impostor’s Tom Tiddler’s ground. 
g The weakness of the many, the virtue of the few. 





PARLOR GAMES. 


213 


HOW DO YOU LIKE IT ? 

How do you like it, When do you like it, and Where do you like 
it ?■—This is also, like “ Proverbs,” a guessing game. One player, as 
before, goes out of the room while the others fix upon a word. He 
then returns, and puts to them severally in turn the question, “ How 
do you like it ?” and then, having completed the circle, “ When do 
you like it ?” and thirdly, in like manner, “ Where do you like it ?” 
To each of which questions the other players are bound to return a 
satisfactory reply. 

At the end of these questions, or at any time in the game, the 
questioner may make a guess at the word, being allowed three guesses 
in all, as in “ Proverbs.” If he succeed in guessing rightly, he points 
out the player from whose answer he got the right clue, who, there¬ 
fore, pays a forfeit and takes his place, and the game goes on as 
before. If he does not succeed in guessing rightly, he himself pays 
a forfeit, and goes out again. 

The great secret of the game is to select words that, though 
pronounced alike (spelling does not matter), have two or more mean- 
ings. 

For instance, Z goes out, and the word “ bow ” is chosen. He 
asks of each, “ How do you like it ? A answers “ In good temper” 
(beau) ; B, “With long ends” (a bow tied in a ribbon) ; C, “very 
strong ” (an archer’s bow) ; and so on, ringing the changes upon three 
different sorts of bow. 

In the next round the players are not bound to adhere to the 
same meaning they selected before, but may take any meaning they 
think most likely to puzzle the questioner. 

Thus, to the question, “ When do you like it ?” the answers may 
quite be legitimately as follows : A, “ When I am dressing;” B, 
“ When I want exercise ;” C, “ When I am going to a party.” And 
to the last question, “Where do you like it?” A answers, “ Under 
my chin ;” B, “ At my feet ;” C, “ Outside on the lawn.” 

If there be only three to be questioned, this would prove hard 
enough to find out, though “ Under the chin ” might, perhaps, give a 
clue. Z’s chance lies in the number of answers that have to be given 
to the same question, and in the short time each has to prepare a 
satisfactory answer—one that shall satisfy all conditions, and yet give 
no clue to the word. 

The whole fun in this game, as in “ Proverbs,” depends entirely 
upon the wit and spirit of the players. To be seen at its very best it 



214 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS 


should be played by a party of really clever grown-up people. The 
contest of wit'is then, as Mr. Cyrus Bantam would say, “ to say the 
least of it, re-markable.” 

Below will be found a few words, taken almost at random, suit¬ 
able for this game : 


Air—Heir 

Bowl 

Mail—Male 

Ant—Aunt 

Cask—Casque 

Main—Mane 

Bow—Bough 

Cell—Sell 

Pear—Pair 

Bow—Beau 

Chord—Cord 

Fair—Fare 

Flour—Flower 

Chest 

Sail—Sale 

Bale—Bail 

Club 

Rain—Rein 

Band 

Corn 

Vale—Veil 

Aisle—Isle 

Drop 

Tale—Tail 

Bar 

Gum 

Note 

Bill 

Kite 

Poll 

Ball 

Dram—Drachm 

Roll 

Buoy—Boy 

Draft—Draught 

Stole 

Balm—Barm 

Knight—Night 

Box 

Arms—Alms 

Hair—Hare 

Game, etc. 


WHAT IS MY THOUGHT LIKE? 

This game is somewhat like the last, only that the questioner 
does not leave the room, and the onus of the game lies on the ques¬ 
tioned, not on the questioner. 

The players being seated in a semicircle round the questioner, he 
thinks of something or a person—it matters not what—and demands 
of each player, “ What is my thought like ?” The answers, of course, 
being given without any clue to the word thought of, are of the most 
incongruous nature. 

This, however, is only the commencement of the fun. Having 
taken and noted each player’s simile, the questioner now reveals the 
word he had thought of, and demands of each a verification of his 
simile under penalty of a forfeit. 

As the answer must be given promptly, without time to arrange 
an elaborate defense, much quickness of wit and readiness of resource 
are required to avoid the forfeit for failure. 

If the whole party succeed in justifying their similes, the ques¬ 
tioner pays a forfeit, and a new questioner is appointed. 

The decision as to an answer being satisfactory or not, lies, in 
disputed cases, with the whole party of players. 

An illustration of the working of the game may be, perhaps, not 
out of place. 





PARLOR GAMES. 


2I 5 


We will suppose that Z, the questioner, has thought of a baby, 
and has asked the question, “What is my thought like?” all round, 
and received the following answers : 

A, “ A lump of chalk;” B, “Alexander the Great;” C, “The 
Great Eastern ; ” D, “ A gooseberry ; ” E, “ A fishing-rod ; ” F, “ A 
carpet-bag,” and so on. 

Z now tells them he thought of a baby, and calls upon them each 
severally to justify his simile. 

A. “ It is like a lump of chalk because it is white.” (Allowed.) 

B. “ It is like Alexander because it cries for what it can’t get.” 
(Allowed.) 

C. “ It is like the Great Eastern because it costs a great deal of 

o 

money before it makes any returns.” (Disputed as rather too fanciful, 
but finally allowed.) 

D. “ It is like a gooseberry because it is soft and red.” (Not 
allowed. It had been previously likened to chalk as being white ; red, 
therefore, cannot stand, and softness is not sufficiently characteristic. 
Forfeit.) 

E. “ It is like a fishing rod because it has many joints.” (Allowed 
by general acclaim.) 

F. “ It is like a carpet-bag because it has most elastic capacities 
for stowage.” (Allowed after some discussion.) 

Of course it is easy enough in most cases to find some sort of 
justification of almost any simile if time be allowed, though even then 
one sometimes comes across one that would puzzle the most ingenious ; 
but in the actual game the explanation must be found on the spur of 
the moment, and herein consists half the fun. 

This game, like all others of its kind, is entertaining exactly in 
proportion to the wit and capacities of the players. Even the most 
witty and most learned may join in it without derogating from their 
dignity, and with a certainty of deriving from it a fund of endless and 
highly intellectual amusement. 

PROVERBS. 

This is a very good mental exercise for all, and is capital fun, 
even for adults: indeed, the better educated and more clever the 
players are the more fun is there to be got out of the game, and it 
gives ample occasion for the exercise of wit of the highest quality. 

One player goes out of the room, and the rest, being seated in a 
circle, fix upon a proverb, which should not be a very long one. The 


2 l6 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


first player being now recalled, he begins at player number one in the 
circle, and asks any question he likes ; the answer must contain the 
first word of the proverb. He then tries the next, whose answer must 
contain the second word, and so on. 

H e is allowed to go completely round the circle if it be a large 
one, or twice if it be a small one, and then must either guess the 
proverb or go out again and try a new one. If he guesses rightly, he 
has to declare the answer that gave him the clue, and the player who 
gave it has to go in his stead. 

In answering the question much ingenuity may be exercised, and 
much amusement created in concealing the key-words of a proverb. 
For instance, in “Birds of a feather flock together” there are three 
dangerous words—birds, feather and flock—all difficult to get into an 
ordinary sentence, and it requires much dexterity to keep them from 
being too prominent. Let us take this proverb as an example. A 
goes out, and “ Birds of a feather flock together ” is agreed upon. A 
asks of B, “ Have you been out to-day?” B, “ No ; but I sat at the 
window for a long time after sunset listening to the birds and watch¬ 
ing the rabbits on the lawn ; you can’t think what a lot there were.’’ 
A is puzzled, he has so many words to pick from, and the word, which 
when expected seems so prominent, falls unnoticed upon his ear. He 
asks C, “ And what have you been doing with yourself this evening?” 
C, “ Oh, I have been sitting with B, looking out of the window, too.” 
Next comes D, who can have but little trouble in bringing in his word 
a, only let his answer be not too short. Then E has to bring in the 
word feather. A asks him, “What did you have for dinner to-day ?” 
E, “ Oh. roast beef, turkey and plum pudding ; but the turkey was so 
badly plucked, it tasted of singed feathers , and we couldn’t eat it.” 
This, repeated rapidly, may deceive the questioner, who goes on to 
F : “ I saw you with a fishing-rod to-day ; what did you catch ? ” F— 
who is by no means required to adhere to absolute facts, and may 
draw upon his imagination to any extent—replies, “ Well, to tell you 
the truth, I did not catch any ; for there was a flock of sheep having 
their wool washed ready for shearing.” F brings in the wool to lead 
A off to the proverb “Great cry and little wool,” as almost his only 
chance of concealing the real word flock. A then demands of G, “ Do 
you like walking?” G, “ I do if I have a companion. When Charlie 
and I go out together we always have lots of fun ; but Harry is such a 
duffer, it’s awfully slow walking with him.” 

If A is at all quick, he ought to have heard quite sufficient to 






PARLOR GAMES 


2 I 7 

know the proverb ; he may, however, be puzzled by the complicated 
sentences ; but after the second round, at least, when the catch-words 
have been repeated, he must be slow indeed if he does not discover it. 

One of the party should be appointed umpire, to decide whether 
any answer is a fair one, and no one else should be allowed to inter¬ 
fere in any way; nothing is so likely to give a clue to the questioner 
as a dispute whether a word has been fairly introduced or not. In 
cases of doubt the umpire may call for a fresh question and answer. 
There is no reason why the umpire, who should be one of the oldest 
players for authority’s sake, should not join in the game. He is 
appointed almost solely to prevent confusion, and his being a player 
or non-player can have no influence on his decisions. 

The answers should be made with decision, and as rapidly as is 
consistent with distinctness—a quality upon which the umpire should 
insist; and the player should especially avoid giving short answers 
when he has a simple word, such as “of,” “the,” etc., and thus give the 
questioner the clue to the answer in which lie the catch-words, and 
thus aid him materially in his task. Of course, great pains must be 
taken not to lay any stress upon the word that has to be introduced, 
and not to make the answers unfairly long. 

SIMULTANEOUS PROVERBS. 

A very good modification of the above. No questions are 
asked ; but the players, one for each word of the proverb, stand or sit 
in a semicircle, and the player who has to discover the proverb stands 
in front of them. One of them, who is chosen leader, now gives the 
time, “One, two, threeat the word “three” they all call out 
simultaneously each his own word. This they may be required to 
repeat once or twice, according to previous arrangement, and then the 
guess must be made under the same conditions as above. 

A long proverb should be chosen for this, if there be enough 
players; the greater the number of voices, of course, the more 
difficult it is to discover the proverb. 

MESMERISM. 

This is a capital game, and, if well managed, will defy all de¬ 
tection. To do it well, however, requires some practice. 

Two persons assume respectively the roles of Professor of Mes¬ 
merism and Clairvoyant. The professor must have a ready wit and a 
good store of language, a plentiful vocabulary at his finger ends ; 


2 18 ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 

whilst the clairvoyant must be quick of observation, and retentive of 
memory. 

A semicircle is formed by the spectators, and the clairvoyant is 
seated blindfolded with his back to them; and the professor, after going 
through the usual ceremony of mesmerizing him, leaves him and 
crosses to the spectators, asking them for any objects they may have 
about them for the clairvoyant to name and describe. 

If they are both well up to their work, the clairvoyant will ap¬ 
pear to those who are not initiated into the secret to be able to 
see without his eyes, to their intense astonishment and admiration. 

The author once thus played clairvoyant to a friend’s professor at 
a large charade party, and deluded the whole company into a belief in 
the reality of the exhibition. 

Robert Houdin, the great French conjuror, and his little boy 
made this clairvoyance one of the leading features of his enter- 
tainment, and brought the art to a wonderful pitch of perfection. 

It would be impossible in the contracted space of one of these 
short notices to give full instructions how to produce this clever 
illusion ; a mere outline of the method of procedure is all that can 
be attempted. This, however, will be amply sufficient for a boy of 
any intelligence to grasp the idea of the leading principles : the mere 
details he will soon learn to work out for himself. If he should 
desire any further particulars, he will find much interesting infor¬ 
mation in the “ Memoirs ”of Robert Houdin, which may now be pro¬ 
cured at almost any library. 

The method of procedure is as follows : The clairvoyant makes 
it his business to observe narrowly—unostentatiously, of course—and 
to catalogue in his mind the persons present, any little peculiarities in 
their dress, ornaments, etc., the general arrangement of the room, and 
any little knickknackeries lying about. Practice only will enable him 
to do this to any considerable extent; but if he have any talent for 
such mental exercise, and without it he will never make a clever 
clairvoyant, practice will soon enable him to observe almost at a 
glance and retain in his memory almost all the leading features of all 
around him, animate and inanimate. 

Robert Houdin trained his son and himself by walking rapidly 
past various shops in the streets of Paris, and then writing down on 
paper, after passing each shop, all the articles they could remember 
seeing in their transitory glimpse through the window ; at first half a 
dozen or so was all they could manage, but they rapidly rose by prac- 



PARLOR GAMES. 


219 

tice to twenty or thirty, until the young Houdin, who quite outstripped 
his father, would tell almost the whole contents of a larofe window. 

Of course, such a wonderful pitch of perfection is scarcely 
attainable by an ordinary boy, and would not be worth his while if it 
were ; nor, indeed, is it, or anything like it, necessary; but the 
instance may serve as an indication of the right method of procedure, 
to be worked out by each boy according to his individual bent and 
opportunities. 

It should be understood that all this preparation and practice is 
not absolutely necessary before beginning to exhibit the trick. A 
very few rehearsals will suffice for a very respectable performance ; 
only if anything like perfection be aimed at, some extra trouble must 
be taken to attain it. Of course, every exhibition will do its work of 
improvement. 

Meanwhile professor and patient must practice the code of sig¬ 
nals by which the former conveys to the latter any necessary infor¬ 
mation about the objects to be described. 

These signs may be words or other sounds ; but great care must 
be taken with the latter, as they are more open to detection. 

The initial letter of the first, second, or last word in each sen¬ 
tence the professor addresses to the clairvoyant is the same as that of 
the object; and as the number of objects likely to be offered for 
description is limited, a little practice will insure its instant recognition 
from the clue thus given. Some signal should be preconcerted by 
which the clairvoyant may be warned that the object presented is at 
all out of the common. 

If there be any difficulty in making out the object, the professor 
may, by a little ingenuity and assurance, spell out in successive sen¬ 
tences the name of the object in his hand. To cover this manceuver, 
he should pretend that the mesmeric influence is failing, and make 
“passes” at the patient, being careful, of course, not to go near him, 
and the clairvoyant must pretend to brighten up under their 
influence. 

In the instance above referred to in the author’s own experience, 
one of the company presented for description something very much 
out of the common way, a nutmeg grater or something similar, and 
the professor with the greatest readiness and the coolest assurance, 
deliberately spelt its name almost to the last letter without detection. 

The above, it is hoped, will be found sufficient to set the young 
aspirant for mesmeric fame on the right track ; but an example of 


220 ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 

the actual working may, perhaps, prove more serviceable than much 
description. 

Suppose, for instance, the object to be a coin—a shilling, say, of 
George the Third, date 1800. The professor, who, by the way, 
should speak with as much rapidity as is compatible with distinctness, 
says sharply : 

Can you tell me what I have in my hand ? 

A coin. 

Modern or Ancient? 

Modern. 

English or foreign ? 

English. 

Give the reign ? 

George the Third. 

But what value ? 

Shilling. 

How dated? 

1800. 

Thank you, sir ! Your shilling, I believe? Right, is it not ? 

The first question, it will be seen, begins with c; this, without further 
explanation, means coin . The next two explain themselves. The fourth 
begins with G for George , the only possible modern English reign ; 
and the next word beginning with t, gives the clue to third. B at 
the beginning of the next stands for “bob,” or shilling, when speaking 
of English coins. The guesser can’t be far wrong in his date, know- 

1 

ing the reign. In enumeration the several digits are represented by 
the letters of the alphabet; h is the eighth letter, and therefore 
stands for 1800. Any odd numbers might have been spelt out in 
similar fashion. 

Both professor and clairvoyant should speak rapidly and decis¬ 
ively to prevent detection, and should constantly change the key-word 
from first to last, and so on. A knowledge of French or some other 
language will be of great service in concealing the machinery. 

ILLUSTRATED QUOTATIONS. 

At the top of a half sheet of paper with which each player is 
provided, a picture is drawn illustrating some quotation—no matter if 
you are not an artist, the more absurd the picture the better. 

When all the works of art are completed, each person passes his 
paper to his right hand neighbor, who writes his interpretation of the 



PARLOR GAMES. 


22 1 


picture at the bottom of the paper, turning the paper over to conceal 
the writing, and passing it on to the next. When each person has 
written on all the papers and they have again reached their original 
owners, they are unfolded, and their contents read aloud, the correct 
quotation being given last of all. 

For instance, A draws a many-paned window through which is 
visible a face gazing at a highly exaggerated cluster of stars. 

The paper being passed to No. i, he writes as his interpretation : 

“ In the prison cell I sit, thinking mother dear of you.” 

No. 2 believes it to signify : 

“ Mabel, little Mabel, with her face against the pane.” 

And none of the company guessing correctly, A reveals to them 
that it illustrates the words from Tennyson’s u Locksley Hall 

“ Many a night from yonder ivied casement ere I went to rest, 

Have I looked on great Orion sloping slowly toward the west.” 

WRIGGLES. 

The company is seated, and everybody furnished with paper and 
pencil. Each player draws a short irregular line anywhere upon his 
paper, which he then passes to his right-hand neighbor. The person 
who receives it must draw a picture whose outline shall include the 
“ wriggle,” made heavier than the other pencil marks to distinguish it. 
The paper may be turned in any direction to accommodate the 
“ wriggle ’’ to the desired subject. No artistic talent is necessary, 
that of adaptability being more important, and the resulting collection 
of impossible houses, people and animals is highly amusing, 

ADVICE. 

Everybody being provided with paper and pencil, each player 
writes a piece of advice upon a slip of paper, which is folded and put 
into a hat. When all the papers are collected they are shuffled and 
drawn by the players. Each person must, before opening his paper, 
declare whether he considers the advice it contains as worthy of being 
followed, or entirely unnecessary. He then reads the advice aloud. 
For instance, A, who announces his advice as most excellent , discovers 
it to be : “You would be greatly improved by endeavoring to over¬ 
come your unbearable conceit.” B, who says his advice is entirely 
uncalled for , finds it to read : “ Do not be so recklessly generous, or 
you will some day come to want. 


222 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


GAME OF PARODIES. 

Require every person present to write a parody upon some well- 
known poem, or in the style of a familiar poet, giving a subject to 
which each parody must be confined. A certain length of time being 
given, each player reads aloud his own production, while the others 
are required to tell what poem or poet he has had in his mind. Sup¬ 
pose the subject is “ Cats,” here are two samples : 

A. “ Scamper, scamper, little cat, 

What on earth can you be at? 

Perched upon the wall so high, 

Boots and brickbats you defy. 

When the little starlets peep, 

When the world is all asleep, 

Then it is you take delight 
Howling all the livelong night.” 

B. “I awakened about midnight, just at midnight, pussy dear, 

Your charming voice, like music, fell upon my drowsy ear; 

Upon my drowsy ear, pussy, and I was heard to say: 

‘ I’ll poison you when it is day, dearest, 1 ’ll poison you when it is day.’ ” 

SHADOW PORTRAITS. 

One of the party being appointed artist, each person in turn is 
seated near the wall with the shadow of his face falling in profile upon 
a sheet of white paper held or pinned upon the wall. The only light 
in the room must be a single powerful lamp, that the shadow may be 
clear and distinct. 

The artist traces with a pencil the outline of the shadowy face 
and head upon the white surface, then hands the result to an assistant, 
who carefully cuts out the head, and upon the back of th a paper re¬ 
maining , writes the name of the person represented. 

After each player has been thus treated, the papers are fastened, 
one at a time, upon a dark curtain or screen, which, showing through 
the head-shaped openings, gives them the appearance of silhouettes, 
the originals of which the company is called upon to guess. 

CHARACTER GUESSING. 

One of the company must leave the room while the others decide 
upon some character, real or fictitious. 

The absent person then being recalled, each of the company in 
turn asks him a question referring to the character he has been 
requested to represent. When he guesses his identity, the player 


PARLOR GAMES. 223 

whose question has thrown the most light upon the subject, has to go 
from the room. 

For instance, A goes from the room and the company decides 
that he shall represent Henry VIII. 

On his entrance No. I asks: “ Which one of your wives did you 
love best ?” No. 2 says : “ Do you approve of a man’s marrying his 
deceased brother’s wife ?” No. 3 adds : “ Were you very sorry your 
brother died?” etc., while A, after guessing “ Brigham Young” and 
various other people, is led by the question of No, 6, “ Did you enjoy 
being head of the church ?” to guess correctly, and No. 6 is con¬ 
sequently sent from the room to have a new character assigned him. 

PERSONAL CONUNDRUMS. 

The company being seated, one player propounds a conundrum 
based upon some member of the company, and then calls upon each 
in turn for an impromptu answer. 

Example . 

No. 1. “ Why is Mr. Jones like a watermelon ?” 

No. 2. “Because he is generally liked.” 

No. 3. “ Because he is verdant.” 

No. 4. “ Because he affects some people disagreeably.” 

No. 5. “ Because he is always ’round, etc. 

FLY FEATHER. 

All the company sit in as small a circle as possible without 
crowding each other, and with a sheet stretched in their midst, tightly 
under each chin. 

Somebody takes a small downy feather—any pillow will furnish 
one—and lets it float in the air, giving it a puff with his breath. 

The person toward whom it descends must likewise blow it up 
and away, for if it falls upon him, or he allows it to fall upon the 
sheet, he pays a forfeit. 

SHADOWS. 

A sheet being stretched across one end of the room, one of the 
players is seated upon a low stool facing it, and with his eyes fixed 
upon it. The only light in the room must be a lamp placed upon a 
table in the center of the room. 

Between this lamp and the person on the stool, the players pass 



224 ART, society and accomplishments. 

in succession, their shadows being thrown upon the sheet in strong 
relief. 

The victim ot the moment endeavors to identify the other players 
by their respective shadows, and if he succeeds the detected party 
must take his place. 

It is allowable to make detection as difficult as possible by means 
of any available disguise that does not conceal the whole person, any 
grimacing, contortion of form, etc. 

jack’s alive. 

This absurd game requires a small piece of firewood which is 
held in the fire until well ablaze, and then extinguished, leaving the 
end still smoldering;. 

The stick is then passed from hand to hand as the players are 
seated in a circle, each one saying “ Jack’s alive,” as long as a spark of 
light remains. 

When the last spark expires, the person in whose hands “ J ack ” 
has died, has his face decorated with the charred end of the stick by 
his neighbor at the right, who, however, has the privilege of 
making but one mark, although the extent of the mark is not 
limited. 

In case the victim is a lady a forfeit may be demanded to take 
the place of the foregoing punishment. The stick is then lighted 
again, and the game continues. 

BEAN BAGS. 

Make twelve or sixteen bags six inches square of bedticking or 
heavy canvas, and loosely fill them with beans which have been pre¬ 
viously washed and dried, to remove all dust. With these can be 
played a variety of games, the two most interesting of which are as 
follows : 

I. 

Appoint two leaders, who choose sides, arranging the sides in 
lines facing each other, with a small table at each end of each line. 

The bean bags being equally divided, each leader deposits his 
share upon the table nearest him. Then at a given signal, seizing 
one bag at a time, with one hand, with the other he starts them down 
the line, each player passing them to the next until they reach the 
last, who plays them as fast as received upon the table next him. 


PARLOR GAMES. 


225 


When all the bags have reached this table, the last player, seiz¬ 
ing each in turn, sends them back up the line to the leader, who again 
deposits them upon his table. 

Whichever side first succeeds in passing all of the bags down the 
line and back, wins the round. It takes five rounds to make a game, 
the side winning three out of the five being- successful. 

The bags must be passed as rapidly as possible, and must every 
one touch the end table before being returned. 

If a bag falls to the ground, it is best to leave it where it falls 
until all the others are down the line, when it may be quickly picked 
up and passed on with little loss of time. But if in his excitement 
a player stoops at once to pick it up, he will cause a delay in passing 
the remaining bags, which invariably creates much confusion and loss 
of time. 

II. 

Have a board three feet long and two feet wide, elevated at one 
end by another board to an angle of thirty degrees, and having some 
six inches from the top an opening about five inches square. Station 
this board at one end of a long room, and divide the company equally. 

Eight of the bean bags are all that are required. 

The leader of one side begins. Standing at a suitable distance 
from the board, he endeavors to throw the bags, one at a time, through 
the square opening. Every bag that reaches the goal counts every 
one that lodges upon the board five, and every one that falls to the 
ground outside of the board a loss of ten. 

Suppose A to have put two bags through the opening ( twenty) 
and two upon the board (ten )—that is a gain of thirty —but the other 
four bags falling to the ground makes a loss of forty , so his real score 
is a loss of ten. 

B puts four through the opening {forty ); three upon the board 
{fifteen), and one upon the ground {ten), which gives him a gain of 
forty-five. 

The sides play alternately, and after three rounds for each, the 
scores, which have been carefully kept by one member of the party, 
are balanced, and the side having the greatest gain declared winners. 

A prize is often given for the highest individual score. 

THE DONKEY’S TAIL. 

Cut the figure of a donkey from dark paper or cloth, and fasten 
it upon a sheet stretched tightly across a doorway. 

15 



226 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


The donkey is minus a tail, but each player is given a caudal 
appendage, which would fit his donkeyship if applied. To each tail 
is attached a paper, bearing the name of the person holding it—and 
it is sometimes further adorned by a small bell fastened at the end. 

When all is ready, the players are blindfolded in turn—placed 
facing the donkey a few steps back in the room—then turned around 
rapidly two or three times and told to advance with the tail held at 
arm’s length, and with a pin previously inserted in the end, attach it 
to the curtain wherever they first touch it. 

When the whole curtain is adorned with tails—(not to mention all 
the furniture, family portraits, etc., in the vicinity)—and there are no 
more to pin on, the person who has succeeded in fastening the 
appendage the nearest to its natural dwelling-place, receives a prize, 
as does also the player who has given the most eccentric position to 
the tail intrusted to his care. 

THREADING A NEEDLE. 

Place a champagne or large olive bottle on its side. Seat the 
culprit upon this with the heel of his right foot resting upon the 
ground and the heel of the left upon the toe of the right. Then give 
him a moderately large needle and a piece of thread, and laugh at his 
efforts to pass the thread through the eye of the needle without chang¬ 
ing his position, or falling off his insecure seat. 

HOW TO PICK UP A COIN. 

Place the player with his back to the wall and his heels close 
together, touching the base-board. Then bid h : m pick up a coin 
laid on the floor before him, without moving his heels, offering the 

o 7 o 

coin as a reward if he succeeds. 

A BAREMUTH FEAST. 

Spread a sheet upon the floor and place two chairs upon it. 
Seat the culprits in the chairs within reach of each other, and blind¬ 
fold them. 

Give each a saucer of cracker or bread crumbs and a spoon, then 
request them to feed each other. The frantic efforts of each victim 
to reach his fellow sufferer’s mouth is truly absurd—the crumbs 
finding lodgment in the hair, ears and neck much oftener than the 
mouth. 

Sometimes pinafores are fastened around the necks of the victims 
for protection. 






PARLOR MAGIC. 


CONJURING, PUZZLES, RIDDLES, ACROSTICS, ETC. 

A few preliminary hints are necessary in order to enable an ama¬ 
teur to perform the tricks he attempts, with effect and success. 

A conjuror should always be able to “ palm ” well. That is done 
by holding a coin in the fingers, and by a quick movement passing it 
into the middle or palm of the hand, and, by contracting the muscles 
on each side of the hand, to retain it there, making the hand appear 
open, and as though nothing were in it. After a little practice this 
will become comparatively easy, but it will require the exercise of 
great perseverance in order to become perfect. The pains, however, 
will be well bestowed, as this is one of the principal means by which 
prestidigitators deceive their audiences. 

FORCING A CARD. 

In card tricks it is frequently necessary to “ force a card,” by 
which you compel a person to take such a card as you think fit, 
while he imagines he is taking one at haphazard. The following is, 
perhaps, the best method of performing this trick : 

Ascertain quietly, or whilst you are amusing yourself with the 

cards, what the card is which you are to force ; but either keep it 

in sight, or place the little finger of your left hand, in which you 

have the cards, upon it. Next, desire a person to select a card 

from the pack, for which purpose you must open them quickly from 

left to right, spreading the cards backward and forward, so as to 

perplex him in making his choice, and when you see him about to 

take one, open the pack until you come to the one you intend him to 

take, and just at the moment his fingers are touching the pack let its 

corners project invitingly a little forward in front of the others. This 

will seem so fair that in nine cases out of ten he will take the one so 

227 



228 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


offered, unless he is himself aware of the secret of forcing. Having, 
by this method, forced your card, you request him to examine it, and 
then give him the pack to shuffle, which he may do as often as 
he likes, for you are, of course, always aware what card he has taken. 
A perfect acquaintance with the art of forcing is indispensably 
necessary before you attempt any of the more difficult card tricks. 

GUESSING A CARD THOUGHT OF. 

To do this well you must attend to the following directions : 
Spread out the cards in your right hand in such a manner that, in 
showing them to the audience, not a single card is wholly exposed to 
view, with the exception of the king of spades, the upper part of 
which should be clearly seen without any obstruction, either from the 
fingers or from the other cards. When you have thus spread them 
out, designedly in fact, but apparently at random, show them to one 
of the spectators, requesting him to think of a card, and at the same 
time take care to move the hand a little, so as to describe a segment 
of a circle, in order that the audience may catch sight of the king of 
spades without noticing that the other cards are all parcially con¬ 
cealed. Then shuffle the cards, but in doing so you must not lose 
sight of the king of spades, which you will then lay on the table face 
downward. You may then tell the person who has thought of a card 
that the one in his mind is on the table, and request him to name it. 
Should he name the king of spades, which he would be most likely to 
do, you will of course turn it up and show it to the company, who, if 
they are not acquainted with the trick, will be very much asconished. 
If, however, he should name some other card—say the queen of clubs 
—you must tell him that his memory is defective, and that that card 
could not have been the card he at first thought of. While telling 
him this, which you must do at as great length as you can in order to 
gain time, shuffle the cards rapidly, and apparently without any par¬ 
ticular purpose until your eye catches the card he has just named (the 
queen of clubs). Put it on the top of the pack, and, still appearing 
to be engrossed with other thoughts, go through the first false shuffle 
to make believe that you have no particular card in view. When you 
have done shuffling, take care to leave the queen of clubs on the top 
of the pack ; then take the pack in your left hand and the king of 
spades in your right, and while dexterously exchanging the queen of 
clubs for the king of spades, say, “ What must I do, gentlemen, that 
my trick should not be a failure ? what card should I have in my right 




PARLOR MAGIC. 


229 


hand ? 5 They will not fan to ca!l out the queen of clubs, upon which 
you will turn it up, and they will see that you have been successful. 

This trick, when well executed, always has a good effect, whether 
the spectator thinks of the card you intended him to think of, or, from 
a desire to complicate matters, of some other. It requires consid¬ 
erable presence of mind, however, and the power of concealing from 
your audience what your real object is 

Another method of making the spectator think of any particular 
card, is the following: Pass several cards under the eye of the person 
selected, turning them over so rapidly that he sees the colors con¬ 
fusedly, without being able to distinguish their number or value. For 
this purpose take the pack in your left hand, and pass the upper part 
into your right, displaying the front of the cards to the audience, and 
consequently seeing only the backs yourself. Pass one over the other 
so rapidly that he will not be able to distinguish any one of them, 
uutil you come to the card that you desire to force—presuming, of 
course, that you have made yourself acquainted with its position. The 
card you select ought to be a bright-looking and easily distinguishable 
one, such as the king of hearts, or the queen of clubs. Contrive to 
have this card a little longer before your audience than the rest, but 
avoid all appearance of effort, and let everything be done naturally. 
During the interval watch the countenance of the spectator, in order 
that you may be sure he notices the card you display before him. 
Having thus assured yourself that he has fixed upon the card you 
selected, and that he is not acquainted with the trick, you then pro¬ 
ceed as before. Should you come to the conclusion that he has fixed 
upon some other card, you will then have recourse to the “exchanged 
card ” trick, as explained in the previous trick. 

TO TELL A CARD BY SMELLING IT. 

A very clever trick, and one which never fails to excite aston¬ 
ishment at an evening party, is to select all the court cards when 
blindfolded ; but before commencing it, you must take one of the 
party into your confidence, and get him to assist you. When all is 
arranged, you may talk of the strong sense of smell and touch which 
blind people are said to possess, and state that you could, when 
blindfolded, distinguish the court cards from the rest, and profess 
your willingness to attempt it. The process is this : After you have 
satisfied the company that your eyes are tightly bound, take the pack 
in your hands, and holding up one of the cards in view of the whole 



ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


230 

company, feel the face of it with your fingers. If it is a court card, 
your confederate, who should be seated near to you, must tread on 
your toe. You then proclain that it is a court card, and proceed to 
the next. Should you then turn up a common card your confederate 
takes no notice of it, and you inform the company accordingly ; and 
so on until you have convinced the company that you really possess 
the extraordinary power to which you laid claim. 

TO TELL ALL THE CARDS WITHOUT SEEING THEM. 

Another good parlor trick is to tell the names of all the cards when 
their backs are turned toward you. Perhaps this is one of the best 
illusions that can be performed with cards, as it not only brings the 
whole pack into use, but can never fail in the hands of an ordinarily 
intelligent operator. The trick, which is founded on the science of 
numbers, enables you to tell every card after they have been cut as 
often as your audience please, although they only see the backs of 
them. It is thus performed : A pack of cards are distributed face 
uppermost on a table, and you pick them up in the following order— 
6, 4, 1, 7, 5, king, 8, 10, 3, knave, 9, 2, queen. Go through the series 
until you have picked up the whole of the pack. It is not necessary 
that you should take up the whole of one suit before commencing 
another. In order that the above order may not be forgotten, the 
following words should be committed to memory. 

6 4 75 

“The sixty-fourth regiment beats the seventy-fifth ; up starts 
king 8 10 3 knave 9 2 

the king, with eight thousand and three men and ninety-two 
queen 
women. ” 

The cards being thus arranged, the cards must be handed to the 
company to cut. They may cut the cards as often as they like, but 
it must be understood that they do it whist fashion, that is, taking off 
a portion of the cards, and placing the lower division on what was 
formerly the upper one. You then take the pack in your hands, and 
without letting your audience perceive, cast a glance at the bottom 
card. Having done this—which you may do without any apparent 
effort—you have the key of the whole trick. You then deal out the 
cards, in the ordinary way, in thirteen sets, putting four cards to each 
set ; in other words, you deal out the first cards singly and separately, 
and then place the fourteenth card above the first set, the next upon 




PARLOR MAGIC. 


231 


the second set, and so on throughout, until you have exhausted the 
whole pack. You may be certain now that each one of these thirteen 
sets will contain four cards of the same denomination—thus, the four 
eights will be together, and so with the four queens, and every other 
denomination. The thirteenth or last set will be of the same denom¬ 
ination as the card at the bottom which you contrived to see, and as 
they will be placed exactly in the reverse order of that in which you 
first of all picked them up, you may without difficulty calculate of 
what denomination each of the sets consists. For example, suppose 
an 8 was the bottom card, you would find, after a little calculation, that 
being dealt out in the manner above described, they would be placed 
in the following order: King, 5, 7, 1, 4, 6, queen, 2, 9, knave, 3, 10, 8; 
and repeating in your own mind the words which you have committed 
to memory, and reckoning the cards backward, you would say— 

8 10 3 knave 9 2 queen 

“Eight thousand and three men, and ninety-two women; 

641 75 

sixty-fourth regiment beats the seventy-fifth; up starts the 

king 

kin of with,” etc., etc. 

o 

You observe the same rule wherever the bottom card may be. 

TO TELL A CARD THOUGHT OF. 

By a certain pre-arranged combination of cards, the conjuror is 
enabled—apparently to guess, but really to calculate—not only the 
card that is thought of by any member of the company, but to tell 
its position in the pack. You take the pack and present it to one of 
those present, desiring him to shuffle the cards well, and after he is 
done, if he chooses, hand them over to some one else to shuffle them 
a second time. You then cause the pack to be cut by several per¬ 
sons, after which you select one out of the company whom you 
request to take the pack, think of a card, and fix in his memory not 
only the card he has thought of, but also its position in the pack, by 
counting 1, 2, 3, 4 and so on, from the bottom of the pack, as far as, 
and including, the card thought of. You may offer to go into 
another room while this is being done, or remain with your eyes 
bandaged, assuring the company that, if they desire it, you will an¬ 
nounce beforehand the number at which the card thought of will be 
found. Now, supposing the person selecting the card stops at No. 
13 from the bottom, and that this thirteenth card is the queen of 





232 ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 

hearts, and supposing also that the number you have put down be¬ 
forehand is 24, you will return to the room or remove your hand¬ 
kerchief, as the case may be, and without putting any question to the 
person who has thought of a card, you ask for the pack, and rest 
your nose upon it, as if you would find out the secret by smelling. 
Then, putting your hands behind your back or under the table, so that 
they cannot be seen, you take away from the bottom of the pack 
twenty-three cards—that is, one less than the number you marked 
down beforehand—and place them on the top, taking great care not 
to put one more or less, as inaccuracy in this respect would certainly 
cause the trick to fail. You then return the pack to the person who 
thought of the card, requesting him to count the cards from the top, 
beginning from the number of the card he thought of. For example, 
having selected the thirteenth card, he will commence counting 14, 
15, 16 and so on. When he has called 23, stop him, telling him that 
the number you marked down was 24, and that the twenty-fourth card 
which he is about to take up is the queen of hearts, which he will find 
to be correct. In performing this trick it is necessary to observe that 
the number you name must be greater than the number which your 
opponent gives you, describing its position in the pack. 

TO CHANGE A CARD BY WORD OF COMMAND. 

It at first sight seems singular that any one should be able even 
to appear to change a card by word of command ; yet it can easily 
be done, and under different titles, and with slight variations, the 
trick is constantly performed in public. To do it, you must have two 
cards alike in the pack—say, for example, a duplicate of the king of 
spades. Place one next to the bottom card, which we will suppose to 
be the seven of hearts, and the other at the top ; shuffle the cards 
without displacing these three, and then show one of the company 
that the bottom card is the seven of hearts. This card you dex¬ 
terously slip aside with your finger, so that it may not be perceived, 
and taking the king of spades from the bottom, which the person 
supposes to be the seven of hearts, lay it on the table, telling 
him to cover it with his hand. Shuffle the cards aeain without dis- 
placing the first and last cards, and shifting the other king of spades 
from the top to the bottom, show it to another person. You then 
contrive to remove the king of spades in the same manner as before, 
and taking the bottom card, which will then be the seven of hearts, 
but which the company will still suppose to be the king of spades, 




PARLOR MAGIC. 


you lay that also on the table, and tell the second person to cover it 
with his h^nd. You then command the cards to change places, and 
when the two parties take off their hands, they will see, to their great 
astonishment, that your commands are obeyed. 

“ TWIN CARD 11 TRICK. 

Another trick performed by means of “ twin " or duplicate cards, 
as in the previous case, is to show the same card, apparently, on the 
top and at the bottom of the pack. One of these duplicate cards may 
be easily obtained ; in fact, the pattern card, which accompanies every 
pack, may be made available for that purpose. Let us suppose, then, 
for a moment, that you have a duplicate of the queen of clubs. You 
place both of them at the bottom of the pack, and make believe to 
shuffle them, taking care, however, that these two keep their places. 
Then lay the pack upon the table, draw out the bottom card, show it, 
and place it on the top. Y-ou then command the top card to pass to 
the bottom, and, on the pack being turned up, the company will see 
with surprise that the card which they had just seen placed upon the 
top is now at the bottom. 


MAGIC TEA-CADDIES. 

This, like some of the tricks we have previously explained, re¬ 
quires suitable apparatus for its successful performance. Two cards, 
drawn by different persons, are put into separate tea-caddies, and 
locked up, and the object of the operator is to appear to change the 
cards without touching them. This may be done without the aid of a 
confederate. The caddies are made with a copper flap which has a 
hinge at the bottom, and opens against the front, where it catches 
under the bolt of the lock, so that when the lid is shut and locked the 
flap will fall down upon the bottom. The operator places the two 
cards he intends to be chosen between the flap and the front, which 
may be handled without any suspicion ; he then requests one of the 
persons to put the card he has selected into one of the caddies, taking 
care that he puts it into the caddy in which you placed the other 
card ; the second person, of course, puts his card into the other caddy. 
The operator then desires them to lock the caddies, and in doing this 
the flap becomes unlocked, falls to the bottom, and covers the cards, 
and when opened, the caddies show apparently that the cards have 
been transposed. 


234 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


THE VANISHING CARD. 

Another good trick is thus performed : Divide the pack, placing 
one-half in the palm of the left hand, face downward ; and, taking the 
remainder of the pack in the right hand, hold them between the 
thumb and first three fingers, taking care to place the cards upright, 
so that the edges of those in your right hand may rest upon the back 
of those in the left, thus forming’ a right angle with them. In this 
way the four fingers of the left hand touch the last of the upright 
cards in your right hand. It is necessary that the cards should be 
placed in this position, and that once being attained, the rest of the 
trick is easy. These preliminaries having been gone through, one of 
the company, at your request, examines the top card of the half-pack 
that rests in the palm of your left hand, and then replaces it. Having 
done this, you request him to look at it again, and, to his astonish¬ 
ment, it will have vanished, and another card will appear in its place. 
In order to accomplish this, having assumed the position already 
described, you must damp the tips of the four fingers that rest against 
the last card of the upright set in your right hand. When the per¬ 
son who has chosen a card replaces it, you must raise the upright 
cards in your right hand very quickly, and the card will then adhere 
to the dampened fingers of the left hand. As you raise the upright 
cards, you must close your left hand skillfully, and you will thereby 
place the last of the upright cards—which; as we have explained, ad¬ 
heres to the fingers of your left hand—upon the top of the cards in 
the palm of your left hand, and when you request the person who first 
examined it to look at it again, he will observe that it has been 
changed. Rapidity and manual dexterity are required for the per¬ 
formance of this capital sleight-of-hand trick. 

TO TELL THE NUMBER OF CARDS BY WEIGHT. 

* 

The apparently marvelous gift of telling the number of cards by 
weight depends on the use of the long card. Take a portion of a 
pack of cards—say forty—and insert among them two long cards. 
Place the first—say fifteen from the top, and the other twenty-six. 
Make a feint of shuffling the cards, and cut at the first long card ; 
poise those you hold in your hand, and say, “ There must be fifteen 
here ; 11 then cut at the second long card, and say, “There are but 
eleven here ; 11 and poising the remainder, say, “And here are four¬ 
teen . 11 The spectators, on counting them, will find that you have 
correctly estimated the numbers. 




PARLOR MAGIC. 


235 


TO PRODUCE A MOUSE FROM A PACK OF CARDS. 

Cards are sometimes fastened together like snuff-boxes. If you 
possess such a pack, or can procure one, you may, without difficulty, 
perform this feat. The cards are fastened together at the edges, but 
the middles must be cut out, leaving a cavity in the pack resembling 
a box. A whole card is glued on to the top, and a number of loose 
ones are placed above it. They must be skillfully and carefully 
shuffled, so that your audience may be led to believe that it is an 
ordinary and perfect pack. The card at the bottom of what we may 
term the “box 1 ’ must likewise be a whole card, but must be glued to 
the box on one side only, so that it will yield immediately to internal 
pressure. This bottom card serves as the door through which you 
convey the mouse into the middle of the pack. Being thus prepared, 
and holding the bottom tight with your hand, request one of the 
company to place his open hands together, telling him you intend to 
produce something very marvelous from the pack. Place the pack in 
his hand, and whilst you engage his attention in conversation, affect 
to want something out of your bag, and at the same moment take the 
pack by the middle, and throw it into the bag, and the mouse, which 
you had previously placed in the box, will remain in the hands of the 
person who holds the cards. 

TO SEND A CARD THROUGH A TABLE. 

Request one of the company to draw a card from the pack, 
examine it, and then return it. Then make the pass—or, if you 
cannot make the pass, make use of the long card—and bring the card 
chosen to the top of the pack, and shuffle by means of any of the 
false shuffles before described, without losing sight of the card. After 
shuffling the pack several times, bring the card to the top again. Then 
place the pack on the table, about two inches from the edge near 
which you are sittings and having previously slightly dampened the 
back of your right hand, you strike the pack a sharp blow, and the 
card will adhere to it. You then put your right hand very rapidly 
underneath the table, and taking off with your left hand the card 
which has stuck to your right hand, you show it to your audience, 
who will at once recognize in it the card that was drawn at the com¬ 
mencement of the trick. You must be careful while performing this 
trick, not to allow any of the spectators to get behind, or at the side 
of the table, but keep them directly in front, otherwise the illusion 
would be discovered. 




236 ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 

TO KNOCK ALL THE CARDS FROM A PERSON’S HAND EXCEPT THE 

CHOSEN ONE. 

With a little care a novice may easily learn this trick. It is not 
new, and is called by some the “ Nerve Trick.” Force a card, and 
request the person who has taken it to return it to the pack and shuffle 
the cards. Then look at the card yourself, and place the card chosen 
at the bottom of the pack. Cut them in two, and give him the half 
containing his card at the bottom, and request him to hold it just at 
the corner, between his finger and thumb. After telling him to hold 
them tight, strike them sharply, and they will all fall to the ground 
except the bottom one, which is the card he has chosen. An im¬ 
provement in this trick is to put the chosen card at the bottom of the 
pack and turn the face upward, so that when you strike, the card 
remaining will stare the spectators in the face. 

ANOTHER CLEVER CARD TRICK. 

This trick, commonly called the “ Turnover Feat,” is easily per¬ 
formed, and yet is difficult of detection. Having forced a card, you 
contrive, after sundry shufflings, to convey it to the top of the pack. 
Make the rest of the cards perfectly even at the edges, but let the 
chosen card project a little over the others. Then, holding them 
between your finger and thumb, about two feet above the table, let 
them suddenly and quickly drop, and the projecting card, in the course 
of its descent, will be turned face uppermost by the force of the air, 
and exposed to the view of the whole company. 

TO TELL THE NAME OF A CARD THOUGHT OF. 

One of the company must, at your request, draw seven or eight 
cards promiscuously from the pack, and select one from among them 
as the card he desires to think of. He then returns them to the pack, 
and you, either by shuffling, or in any other way which will not be 
noticed, continue to pass the whole of them to the bottom of the 
pack. You then take five or six cards off the top of the pack, and 
throw them on the table face upward, asking if the card thought 
of is among them. Whilst the person is examining them you secretly 
take one card from the bottom of the pack and place it on the top ; 
and when he tells you that the card he thought of is not in the first 
parcel, throw him five or six more, including the card you have just 
taken from the bottom—the denomination and suit of which it is pre¬ 
sumed you have taken the opportunity to ascertain—so that should he 



PARLOR MAGIC. 


237 


say that his card is in the second parcel, you will at once know which 
card is indicated, and in order to “bring it to light,” you may make 
use either of the two foregoing tricks, or any other you think proper. 

TO TELL THE NAMES OF ALL THE CARDS BY THEIR WEIGHTS. 

The pack having been cut and shuffled to the entire satisfaction 
of the audience, the operator commences by stating that he under¬ 
takes, by poising each card for a moment on his fingers, to tell not 
only the color, but the suit and number of spots, and, if a court card, 
whether it be king, queen or knave. For the accomplishment of this 
most amusing trick we recommend the following directions : You 
must have two packs of cards exactly alike. One of them we will 
suppose to have been in use during the evening for the performance 
of your tricks ; but in addition to this you must have a second pack 
in your pocket, which you must take care to arrange in the order 
hereinafter described. Previous to commencing the trick you must 
take the opportunity of exchanging these two packs, and bringing 
into use the prepared pack. This must be done in such a manner that 
your audience will believe that the pack you introduce is the same 
as the one you have been using all the evening, which they know has 
been well shuffled. The order in which the pack must be arranged 
will be best ascertained by committing the following lines—the words 
in italics forming the key : 

Eight kings threa-ten’d to save, 

Eight, king , three, ten, two , seven, 

Nine fair ladies for one sick knave, 

Nine, five , queen , four, ace , six , knave. 

These lines thoroughly committed to memory, will be of material 
assistance. The alliterative resemblance will, in every instance, be a 
sufficient euide to the card indicated. The order in which the suits 
should otherwise be committed to memory,—viz., hearts, spades, 
diamonds, clubs. Having sorted your cards in accordance with the 
above directions, your pack is “ prepared ” and ready for use; and 
when you have successfully completed the exchange, you bring forward 
your prepared pack, and hand it round to be cut. The pack may be 
cut as often as the audience pleases, but always whist fashion,— i. e., 
the lower half of the pack must be placed upon the upper at each cut. 
You now only want to know the top card, and you will then have a 
clue to the rest. You, therefore, take off the top card, and holding it 
between yourself and the light, you see what it is, saying at the same 



238 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


time, by way of apology, that this is the old way of performing the 
trick, but that it is now superseded. Having once ascertained what 
the first is, which, for example, we will suppose to be the king of dia¬ 
monds, you then take the next card on your finger, and poise it for a 
moment, as if you were going through a process of mental calcu¬ 
lation. This pause will give you time to repeat to yourself the two 
lines given, by which means you will know what card comes next. 
Thus : “ Eight kings threa -tend to” etc. ; it will be seen that the three 
comes next. 

THE QUEEN’S DIG FOR DIAMONDS. 

Taking the pack in your hands, you separate from it the four 
kings, queens, knaves and aces, and also four common cards of each 
suit. Then laying the four queens, face upward, in a row on the 
table, you commence telling your story somewhat after this fashion :— 

“ These four queens set out to seek for diamonds. [Here you 
place any four cards of the diamond suit half over the queensh\ As 
they intend to dig for diamonds, they each take a spade. [Here lay 
four common spades half over the diamonds .] The kings, their hus¬ 
bands, aware of the risk they run, send a guard of honor to protect 
them. [ Place the four aces half over the spades k\ But fearing the 
guard of honor might neglect their duty, the kings resolve to set out 
themselves. [Here lay the four kings half over the four aces. j 
Now, there were four robbers, who, being apprised of the queen’s 
intentions, determined to waylay and rob them as they returned with 
the diamonds in their possession. [Lay the four knaves half over 
the four kings. ] Each of these four robbers armed himself with a club. 
[Lay out four clubs half over the knaves] ; and as they do not know 
how the queens may be protected, it is necessary that each should 
carry a stout heart. [Lay out four hearts half over the knaves .] 

You have now exhausted the whole of the cards with which you 
commenced the game, and have placed them in four columns. You 
take the cards in the first of these columns, and pack them together, 
beginning at your left hand, and keeping them in the order in which 
you laid them out. Having done this, you place them on the table, 
face downward. You pack up the second column in like manner, 
lay them on the first, and so on with the other two. 

The pack is then handed to the company, who cut them as often 
as they choose, provided always that they cut whist-fashion. That 
done, you may give what is termed a shuffle-cut; that is, you appear to 



PARLOR MAGIC. 


2 39 

shuffle them, but in reality only give them a quick succession of cuts, 
taking care that when you are done a card of the heart suit remains 
at the bottom. 

You then begin to lay them out again as you did in the first 
instance, and it will be found that all the cards will come in their 
proper order. 

MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARANCE OF THE KNAVE OF SPADES. 

Fixing your eye upon the stoutest-looking man in the room, you 
ask him if he can hold a card tightly. Of course, he will answer in 
the affirmative ; but if he should not, you will have no difficulty in 
finding one who does. You then desire him to stand in the middle 
of the room, and holding up the pack of cards, you show him the 
bottom one, and request him to state what card it is. He will tell 
you that it is the knave of spades. You then tell him to hold the 
card tightly, and look up at the ceiling. While he is looking up you 
ask him if he recollects his card ; and if he answers, as he will be sure 
to do, the knave of spades, you will reply that he must have made a 
mistake, for if he look at the card he will find it to be the knave of 
hearts, which will be the case. Then handing him the pack, you tell 
him that if he look over it, he will find his knave of spades some¬ 
where in the middle of the pack. 

This trick is extremely simple and easy of accomplishment. You 
procure an extra knave of spades, and cut it in half, keeping the 
upper part, and throwing away the lower. Before showing the 
bottom of the pack to the company, get the knave of hearts to the 
bottom, and lay over it, unperceived by the company, your half knave 
of spades ; and under pretense of holding the pack very tight, put 
your thumb across the middle, so that the joining may not be seen, 
the legs of the two knaves being so similar that detection is impos¬ 
sible. You then give him the lower part of the knave of hearts to 
hold, and when he has drawn the card away hold your hands so that 
the faces' of the cards will be turned toward the floor. As early 
as possible you take an opportunity of removing the half 
knave. 


SLEIGHT-OF-HAND TRICKS, ETC. 

Having completed our catalogue of card feats, we now proceed 
to give a short selection of other conjuring tricks. 


240 ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 

S 

A CHEAP WAY OF BEING GENEROUS. 

You take a little common white or bees’ wax, and stick it on 
your thumb. Then, speaking to the bystander, you show him a 
dime, and tell him how you will put the same into his hand ; press 
it down upon the palm of his hand with your waxed thumb, talking 
to him the while, and looking him in the face. Suddenly take away 
your thumb, and the coin will adhere to it; then close his hand, and 
he will be under the impression that he holds the dime, as the 
sensation caused by the pressing still remains. You may tell him he 
is at liberty to keep the dime; but on opening his hand to look at 
it he will find, to his astonishment, that it is gone. 

THE FAMOUS ENGLISH MOUNTEBANK TRICK. 

In the days when merry-andrews and mountebanks met with a 
hearty welcome on every English village green, no conjuring trick 
was more popular than this ; yet there are few that can be per¬ 
formed with less difficulty. You first of all procure a long strip 
of paper, or several smaller strips pasted together, two or three 
inches wide. Color the edges red and blue, and roll up the paper like 
a roll of ribbon. Before doing so, however, securely paste a small 
piece of cotton at the end you begin to roll. Then, when the proper 
time has arrived, you take hold of this cotton, and begin to pull out 
a long roll which very much resembles a “ barber’s poled’ In order to 
perform this trick with good effect, have before you some paper 
shavings, which may easily be procured at any bookbinder’s, and 
commence to appear to eat them. The chewed paper can be 
removed each time a fresh handful is put into the mouth ; and when 
the proper time and opportunity have arrived, put the roll into the 
mouth, and pull the bit of cotton, when 'a long roll conies out, as 
before described, to the astonishment of the audience. 

A more elegant but similar feat is the following, which we will 

style 

BRINGING COLORED RIBBON FROM THE MOUTH. 

Heap a quantity of finely-carded cottonwool upon a plate, which 
place before you. At the bottom of this lint, and concealed from the 
company, you should have several narrow strips of colored ribbons, 
wound tightly into one roll, so as to occupy but little space. Now 
begin to appear to eat the lint by putting a handful in your mouth. 
The first handful can easily be removed and returned to the plate 


PARLOR MAGIC. 


241 


unobserved, while the second is being “ crammed in.” In doing this, 
care should be taken not tc use all the lint, but to leave sufficient to 
conceal the roll. At the last handful, take up the roll and push it 
into your mouth without any lint ; then appear to have had enough, 
and look in a very distressed state, as if you were full to suffocation ; 
then put your hands up to your mouth, get hold of the end of the 
ribbon, and draw, hand over hand, yards of ribbon as if from your 
stomach. The slower this is done, the better the effect. When one 
ribbon is off, the roll of your tongue will assist you in pushing another 
end ready for the hand. You will find you need not wet or damage 
the ribbon in the least. This is a trick which is frequently performed 
by one of the cleverest conjurors of the day. 

CATCHING MONEY FROM THE AIR. 

The following trick, which tells wonderfully well when skillfully 
performed, is a great favorite with one of our best-known conjurors. 
So far as we are aware, it has not before been published. Have in 
readiness any number of silver coins, say thirty-four ; place all of 
them in the left hand, with the exception of four, which you must 
palm into the right hand, then obtaining a hat from the audience, you 
quietly put the left hand with the silver inside ; and whilst playfully 
asking if it is a new hat, or some such remark for the purpose of 
diverting, loose the silver, and at the same time take hold of the brim 
with the left hand, and hold still so as not to shake the silver. Now 
address the audience, and inform them that you are going to “catch 
money from the air . 11 Ask some person to name any number of coins 
up to ten, say eight. In the same way go on asking various persons, 
and adding the number aloud till the total number named is nearly 
thirty; then looking round as though some one had spoken another 
number, and knowing that you have only thirty-four coins, you must 
appear to have heard the number called which, with what has already 
been given, will make thirty-four ; say the last number you added 
made twenty-eight, then, as though you had heard some one say six, 
“and twenty-eight and six make thirty-four—Thank you, I think we 
have sufficient.” Then, with the four coins palmed in your right 
hand, make a catch at the air, when they will chink. Look at them, 
and pretend to throw them into the hat, but instead of doing so, 
palm them again ; but in order to satisfy your audience that you 
really threw them into the hat, you must, when in the act of palming, 
hit the brim of the hat with the wrist of the right hand, which will 

16 



242 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


make the coins in the hat chink as if they had just fallen from the 
right hand. Having repeated this process several times, say, “ I 
suppose we have sufficient,’’ empty them out on to a plate, and let 
one of the audience count them. It will be found that there are only 
thirty, but the number which you were to catch was thirty-four. You 
will therefore say, “Well, we are four short; I must catch just four, 
neither more nor less.” Then, still having four coins palmed in your 
right hand, you catch again, and open your hands, saying to the 
audience, “ Here they are.’’ 

HOW TO FIRE A LOADED PISTOL AT THE HAND WITHOUT HURTING IT. 

This extraordinary illusion is performed with real powder, real 
bullets, and a real pistol, the instrument which effects the deception 
being the ramrod. This ramrod is made of polished iron, and on one 
end of it is very nicely fitted a tube, like a small telescope tube. 
When the tube is off the rod, there will, of course, appear a little pro¬ 
jection. The other end of the rod must be made to resemble this ex¬ 
actly. The ramrod with the tube on being in your hand, you pass 
the pistol round to the audience to be examined, and request one of 
them to put in a little powder. Then take the pistol yourself, and put 
in a very small piece of wadding, and ram it down ; and in doing so 
you will leave the tube of the ramrod inside the barrel of the pistol. 
To allay any suspicion that might arise in the minds of your audience, 
you hand the ramrod to them for their inspection. The ramrod being 
returned to you, you hand the pistol to some person in the audience, 
requesting him to insert a bullet, and to mark it in such a way that he 
would recognize it again. You then take the pistol back and put in a 
little more wadding. In ramming it down, the rod slips into the tube 
which now forms, as it were, an inner lining to the barrel, and 
into which the bullet has fallen ; the tube fitting tight on the rod is 
now easily withdrawn along with it from the pistol, and the bullet is 
easily got into the hand by pulling off the tube from the rod, while 
seeking a plate to “ catch the bullets ; ” and the marksman receiving 
order to fire, you let the bullet fall from your closed hand into the 
plate just as the pistol goes off. 

CURIOUS WATCH TRICK. 

By means of this trick, if a person will tell you the hour at which 
he means to dine, you can tell him the hour at which he means to get 
up next morning. First ask a person to think of the hour he intends 


PARLOR MAGIC. 


243 


rising on the following morning. When he has done so, bid him 
place his finger on the hour, on the dial of your watch, at which he in¬ 
tends dining. Then—having requested him to remember the hour of 
which he first thought—you mentally add twelve to the hour upon 
which he has placed his finger, and request him to retrograde, counting 
the hours you mention, whatever they may be, but he is to commence 
counting with the hour he thought of from the hour he points at. 
For example, suppose he thought of rising at eight, and places his 
finger on twelve as the hour at which he means to dine, you desire 
him to count back twenty-four hours ; beginning at twelve he counts 
eight, that being the hour he thought of rising, eleven he calls nine, 
ten he calls ten (mentally, but not aloud), and so on, until he has 
counted twenty-four, at which point he will stop, which will be eight, 
and he will probably be surprised to find it is the hour he thought of 
rising at. 

THE FLYING QUARTER. 

This is a purely sleight-of-hand trick, but it does not require 
much practice to be able to do it well and cleverly. Take a quarter 
between the forefinger and thumb of the right hand ; then, by a rapid 
twist of the fingers, twirl the coin by the same motion that you would 
use to spin a teetotum. At the same time rapidly close your hand, 
and the coin will disappear up your coat sleeve. You may now open 
your hand, and, much to the astonishment of your audience, the (oin 
will not be there. This capital trick may be varied in a hundred ways. 
One plan is to take three quarters, and concealing one in the palm of 
your left hand, place one of the others between the thumb and fore¬ 
finger of the right hand, and the third between the thumb and fore¬ 
finger of the left hand. Then give the coin in the right hand the 
twist already described, and closing both hands quickly, it will dis¬ 
appear up your sleeve, and the left hand on being unclosed, will be 
found to contain two quarters. Thus you will make the surprised 
spectators believe that you conjured the coin from your right hand 
to the left. 

PLUMES FOR THE LADIES. 

The following very clever trick was a favorite with M. Houdin, 
and was performed by him at St. James Theater, where it drew forth 
a good deal of admiration. When known, however, it appears like 
a great many other tricks, extremely simple and easy. 

Procure two or three large plumes of feathers, or a lot tied 



244 ART, society and accomplishments. 

• 

together. Take off your coat, and hold one lot in each hand, so that 
the plumes will lie in a parallel line with the arms. Put your coat 
on again, and press the feathers into small compass. Ask some one 
to lend you a large silk handkerchief, throw it over one hand and part 
of the arm, and with the other quickly draw the feathers from that 
arm. The plumes being released from their imprisonment, will spread 
out and resume their bulky appearance, and the onlookers will be 
completely baffled as to where they could have come from. Then re¬ 
peat the process with the other arm. 

THE BORROWED QUARTER IN THE WORSTED BALL. 

This easily-performed trick should be in the repertoire of every 
amateur magician. A large ball of worsted is obtained, and a marked 
quarter having been borrowed from the audience, the worsted is un¬ 
wound, and out falls the quarter which but a moment before was sup¬ 
posed to be in the hands of the operator. It is done in this way: 
Procure a few skeins of thick worsted ; next, a piece of tin in the 
shape of a flat tube, large enough for the coin to pass through, and 
about four inches long. Then wind the worsted on one end of the 
tube to a good-sized ball, having a quarter of your own in your right 
hand. You may now show the trick. Place the worsted anywhere 
out of sight, borrow a marked quarter, and taking it in your left hand* 
you put the one in your right hand on the end of the table farthest 
from the company. While so doing, drop the marked quarter into 
the tube, pull the tube out, and wind a little more worsted on in 
order to conceal the hole. Then put the ball into a tumbler, and tak¬ 
ing the quarter you left on the table, show it to the company (who 
will imagine it to be the borrowed quarter), and say “ Presto ! fly ! 
pass ! ” Give the end of the ball to one of the audience, and request 
him to unwind it, and on that being done the money will fall out. 

THE INK AND FISH TRICK. 

This trick, originally introduced by M. Houdin, has been per¬ 
formed by every wizard since. A large goblet is placed upon the 
table, containing apparently several pints of ink. A small quantity of 
ink is taken out with a ladle, and being poured out into a plate, is 
handed round to the company to satisfy them that it really is ink. A 
handkerchief is then covered over the goblet, and upon being 
instantly withdrawn, reveals the glass now full of water, in which swim 
gold and silver fish. The trick is thus performed : A black silk lining 


PARLOR MAGIC. 


245 


is placed inside the goblet, and kept in its place by a wire ring. It 
thus forms a bag without a bottom as it were, and when wet adheres 
closely to the glass in which are the water and the fish. The next 
part of the deception is the ladle, which must be capable of containing 
as much ink as will induce the audience to believe that it was got 
from the goblet before them. The ink must be concealed in the 
handle of the ladle, so that when it is lying on the table it will not be 
perceived ; but on being elevated, it must run into the ladle through a 
small aperture made for the purpose. The black silk 4s easily with¬ 
drawn by the thumb and finger at the time the handkerchief is re¬ 
moved. It must be concealed within the folds of the handkerchief. 

SILVER CHANGED TO GOLD—FLYING MONEY. 

Before commencing this trick you must provide yourself with two 
quarters and a half eagle, and one of the quarters must be concealed 
in the right hand. Lay the other quarter and the half eagle on the 
table, in full view of the audience. Now ask for two handkerchiefs, 
then take the half eagle up and pretend to roll it in one of the hand¬ 
kerchiefs ; but instead of that roll up the quarter, which you had con¬ 
cealed in the right hand, and retain the half eagle. Then give the 
handkerchief to one of the company to hold. Now take the quarter 
off the table, and pretend to roll that up in the second handkerchief, 
but put up the half eagle instead. Give this handkerchief to a second 
person and bid him “ hold it tight,” while you command the half eagle 
and the quarter to change places. On the handkerchief being opened, 
the coins will appear to have obeyed your command. 

THE “TWENTY CENTS 1 ’ TRICK. 

This trick may be performed with any number of either quarters, 
half eagles, or half dollars ; but, following the traditional rule, we will 
suppose that you borrow at random twenty cents from the company 
and display them on a plate, having previously concealed five other 
cents in your left hand. You take the cents from the plate into the 
right hand, mix them with the concealed five, and then give them to 
one of the company to hold. You then ask the possessor to return 
five to you, which he will do, under the supposition that he only re¬ 
tains fifteen, while in reality he retains twenty. You must now have 
another cent palmed in your right hand, so that when you give the 
rive cents to another person to hold, you add one to the number, and 
in reality put six in his hands. You then ask him, as in the previous 



246 ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 

case, to return one to you, reminding him, as you receive it, that he 
has only four left. Then pretending to put the cent you have just 
received into your left hand, you strike your left hand with your 
magic wand, and bid the coin you are supposed to be holding to fly 
into the closed hand of the person holding five, or, as he supposes, 
four cents. On unclosing his hand he will find it to contain five cents, 
and he will believe that you transferred one of them thither. Now, 
taking the five cents, you must dexterously pass them into the left 
hand, and bid them to fly into the closed hand of the person holding 
the supposed fifteen ; and he, in like manner, will be astonished to find, 
on unclosing his hand, that it contains twenty cents instead of, as he 
supposed, fifteen. 

THE MYSTERIOUS BAG. 

Mr. Philippe, when appearing before his wonder-struck audiences, 
used to excite the most profound amazement by means of a mysterious 
bag, from which he produced nearly every conceivable thing, from a 
mouse-trap to a four-posted bedstead ; and its capacity was so pro¬ 
digious, that it swallowed even more than it produced. Similar but 
less pretending is the one which we give under the title of “The 
Mysterious Bag.” Make two bags, each about a foot long and six 
inches wide, of some dark material, and sew them together at the 
edge, so that one may be inside the other. Next make a number of 
pockets, each with a cover to it, which may be fastened down by a 
slight elastic band. Place these about two inches apart, between the 
two bags, sewing one side of the pocket to one bag and the other side 
to the other. Make slits through both bags about an inch long, just 
above the pockets, so that you can put your hand in the bags ; and by 
inserting your thumb ana finger through these slits you may obtain 
entrance to the pockets, and bring out of them whatever they contain. 
It is, of course, necessary that a variety of articles should be put in 
the pockets. Before commencing the trick you may turn the bag 
inside out any number of times, so that your audience may conclude 
that it is quite empty. You can then cause to appear or disappear 
any number of articles of a light nature, much to the amusement of 
your audience. 

TO MAKE A DIME DISAPPEAR AT COMMAND. 

This simple and well-known but often amusing trick, enables the 
operator to cause a small coin to disappear after it has been wrapped 
up in a handkerchief. Borrow a dime or small coin, or use one of 


PARLOR MAGIC. 


247 


your own, and secretly place a small piece of soft wax on one side of 
it; then spread a pocket-handkerchief on a table, and taking up a coin, 
show it to your audience, being very careful not to expose the side 
that has the wax on it. Having done this, place the coin in the cen¬ 
ter of the handkerchief, so that the wax side will adhere. Then bring 
the corner of the handkerchief over, and completely hide the coin from 
the view of the spectators. All this must be carefully done, or the 
company will perceive the wax on the back of the coin. You must 
now press very hard on the coin with your thumb, in order to make it 
adhere. When you have done this, fold over successively the other 
corners, repeating the operation a second time, and leaving the fourth 
corner open. Then take hold of the handkerchief with both hands at 
the open part, and sliding your finger along the edge of the same, it 
will become unfolded, and the coin adhering to the corner of the hand¬ 
kerchief will, of course, come into your right hand ; then detach the 
coin, shake out the handkerchief, and to the great astonishment of the 
company the coin will have disappeared. 

In order to convince your audience that the coin is still in the 
handkerchief after you have wrapped it up, you can drop it on the 
table, when it will sound. 

TO PRODUCE A CANNON-BALL FROM A HAT. 

This is a very old trick, though it still finds favor with most of 
the c mjurors of the present day* You borrow a hat, and on taking it 
into your hands, you ask a number of questions about it, or say it 
would be a pity for you to spoil so nice a hat, or make use of some 
such remark. This, however, is only a ruse for the purpose of diverting 
attention. Then passing round to the back of your table — (where, by 
the way, you have arranged on pegs a large wooden “cannon-ball,” or 
a cabbage, or a bundle of dolls, trinkets, etc., loosely tied together, so 
that they may be easily disengaged)—you wipe, in passing, one or 
other of these articles off the pegs where they must be very slightly 
suspended, into the hat so rapidly as not to be observed. 

Returning to the gentleman from whom you received the hat, you 
say to him—“You are aware, sir, that your hat was not empty when 
you gave it to me”—at the same time emptying the contents in front 
of the audience. Supposing you have, in the first instance, introduced 
the dolls and trinkets, you may repeat the trick by wiping the “ can¬ 
non-ball,” or one of the other articles into the hat, and again advancing 
toward the gentleman from whom you received it, say, “ Here is your 




248 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


hat ; thank you, sir.” Then just as you are about to give it to him, 
say, “ Bless me, what have we here ?” and turning the hat upside 
down, the large cannon-ball will fall out. 

EVANESCENT MONEY. 

“ ’Tis here, and ’tis gone !” This simple, but effective trick is 
done in the following manner : Stick a piece of white wax on the nail 
of your middle finger ; lay a dime on the palm of your hand, and 
state to the company that you will make it vanish at the word of com¬ 
mand, at the same time observing that many perform the feat by 
letting the dime fall into their sleeve, but to convince them that you 
have not recourse to any such deception, turn up the cuffs of your 
sleeves. Then close your hand and cry, “ Begone !” and suddenly 
open it and extending your palm, you show the dime has vanished. 
Care must be taken to remove the wax from the dime before you 
restore it to the owner. 


THE WINGED DIME. 

Take a dime with a hole in the edge, and attach it to a piece of 
white sewing-silk, at the end of which is a piece of elastic cord about 
twelve inches in length. Sew the cord to the lining of your left-hand 
coat sleeve, but be careful that the end of the cord to which the coin 
is attached, should not extend lower than within two inches of the end 
of the sleeve when the coat is on. Having done this, bring down the 
sixpence with the right hand, and place it between the thumb and 
under finger of the left hand, and showing it to the company, tell them 
you will give it to any one present who will not let it slip away. You 
must then select one of your audience, to whom you proffer the dime, 
and just as he is about to receive it, you must let it slip from between 
your fingers, and the contraction of the elastic cord will draw the coin 
up your sleeve, and its sudden disappearance will be likely to astonish 
the would-be recipient. This feat can be varied by pretending to 
wrap the coin in a piece of paper, or a handkerchief. Great care 
should be taken not to let any part of the cord be seen, as that would 
be the means of discovering the trick. 

THE AERIAL COIN. 

The following will furnish the key to many of the stock tricks of 
professional conjurors. Having turned up the cuffs of your coat, begin 
by placing a cent on your elbow (your arm being bent by raising the 


PARLOR MAGIC. 


249 


hand toward the shoulder) and catching it in your hand—a feat of 
dexterity easily performed. Then say that you can catch even a 
smaller coin in a more difficult position. You must illustrate this by 
placing the dime half-way between the elbow and the wrist, and by 
suddenly bringing the hand down, the dime will fall securely into the 
cuff, unseen by any one, and it will seem to have disappeared 
altogether. Take a drinking glass or tumbler, and bidding the spec¬ 
tators to look upward, inform them that the lost coin shall drop 
through the ceiling. By placing the glass at the side of your arm, 
and elevating your hand, the coin will fall from the cuff into the 
tumbler. 



PHRENOLOGY. 


Phrenology is a Greek compound, signifying a discourse on the 
mind. The system which exclusively passes by this name was founded 
by Dr. Francis Joseph Gall, a German physician, born in 1757 . The 
brain is the organ by and through which mind in this life is mani¬ 
fested. This truth is now disputed scarcely anywhere. 

Phrenologists conjectured that different brains differ in quality, 
but were long without any indications of these differences. The doc¬ 
trine of the Temperaments has thrown considerable, though not per¬ 
fect, light on this point, and for this we are indebted to Dr. Thomas 
of Paris. There are four temperaments, accompanied with different 
degrees of power and activity, in other words, quality of brain. 
These are the bilious , the nervous , the sanguine , and the lymphatic. 
These temperaments were observed and distinguished long before the 
discovery of phrenology, though to little purpose. They figure in 
the fanciful philosophy of Burton, and similar writers of former 
times, and much nonsense is written connected with them. Phre¬ 
nology has adopted them, and made them intelligible and useful. They 

250 
















PHRENOLOGY. 


251 


are supposed to depend upon the constitution of the particular bodily 
systems. The muscular and fibrous systems being predominantly 
active, seem to give rise to the bilious temperament. The name is 
equivocal, and therefore not well applied ; the other three are more 
appropriate. The brain and nerves predominating in activity, give the 
nervous ; the lungs, heart and bloodvessels, the sanguine ; while the 
glands and assimilating organs present the lymphatic temperament. 

The predominance of these several bodily systems is indicated by 
certain sufficiently obvious external signs, whence our power of 
recognizing them. The nervous temperament is marked by silky, thin, 
hair, thin skin, small, thin muscles, quick, muscular motion, paleness, 
and often delicate health. The whole nervous system, brain included, 
is active, and the mental manifestations vivacious. It is the tem¬ 
perament of genius and refinement. The bilious has black, hard and 
wiry hair, dark or black eyes, dark skin, moderate fulness, but much 
firmness of flesh, with a harsh outline of countenance and person. 
The bilious .temperament gives much energy of brain and mental 
manifestation, and the countenance is marked and decided ; this is the 
temperament for enduring much mental as well as bodily labor. The 
sanguine temperament has well-defined forms, moderate plumpness 
and firmness of flesh, light or red hair, blue eyes, and fair, and often 
ruddy countenance. It is accompanied with great activity of the 
bloodvessels, an animated countenance and a love of out-door exer¬ 
cises. With a mixture of the bilious—for in most individuals the 
temperaments are mixed, often all four occurring in one person—it 
would give the soldier’s temperament. The brain is active. The 
lymphatic temperament is indicated by a round form, as in the fat and 
corpulent, soft flesh, full, cellular tissue, fair and pale skin. The vital 
action is languid, the circulation is weak and slow. The brain is also 
slow and feeble in its action, and the mental manifestations 
correspond. 

THE PRIMITIVE FACULTIES OF MIND AS CONNECTED 
WITH THEIR ORGANS IN THE BRAIN. 

Mind, which was considered by the metaphysicians as a single 
thing or essence, was said by them to be capable of being in different 
states , in each of which states it made one of its various mani¬ 
festations, as memory, judgment, anger, etc. In no particular does 
the phrenological hypothesis differ more from the metaphysical than 
this. The phrenological doctrine is, that the brain, the organ of the 



252 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


mind, is divided into various faculties, each of which has its own mode 
of acting. It is held— 

Firstly. That by accurate observation of human actions, it is pos¬ 
sible to discriminate the dispositions and intellectual power of man, 
such as love, anger, benevolence, observation, reflection, etc. 

Secondly. That the true form of the brain can be ascertained 
by the external form of the head; the brain, though the softer 
substance, being what rules the shape of the skull, just as a shell 
takes its form from the animal within. 

Thirdly. The organs or parts into which the brain is divided, all 
of which organs are possessed by every individual except in the case 
of idiocy, appear on the brain’s surface in folds or convolutions, 
somewhat like the bowels or viscera of an animal, but have a well- 
ascertained fibrous connection through the whole substance of the 
brain with one point at its base, called the medulla oblongata , which 
unites the brain to the spinal cord. The organs have thus each a 
conical form from the medulla oblongata to the surface; the whole 
being not inaptly compared to the stalks and flowers of a cauliflower. 

Fourthly. The brain is divided into two equal parts called hem¬ 
ispheres: on each side of the fosse, or division between these hemis¬ 
pheres, the same organ occurs ; all the organs are therefore double, 
in analogy with the eyes, ears, etc. But when the term organ is used, 
both organs are meant. The organs which are situated close to the 
middle line drawn vertically on the head, though close to each other, 
are nevertheless double; for example, Individuality, Benevolence, 
Firmness, etc. 

Fifthly. Beside the brain proper, there is a smaller brain, 
attached to the hinder part of the base of the brain, called the cere¬ 
bellum. 

Sixthly. The brain, including the cerebellum, is divided into the 
anterior , middle and posterior lobes. The cerebellum forms part of 
the posterior lobe. The anterior lobe contains all of the intellectual 
faculties; the posterior and lower range of the middle lobe are the 
regions of the animal propensities ; while the moral sentiments are 
found, with a sort of local pre-eminence, to have their organs developed 
on the top or coronal surface of the head. 

The gradation in size of the organs is thus denoted : 


Very Small. 
Small. 

Rather Small. 


Moderate. 
Rather Full. 
Full. 


Rather Large. 
Large. 

Very Large. 





PHRENOLOGY. 253 

It has been found convenient to express these degrees in num¬ 
bers, thus— 


I. 

8. (Rather Small.) 

D- 

2. (Idiocy.) 

9 - 

16. (Rather Large.) 

3 - 

10. (Moderate.) 

17 - 

4. (Very Small.) 

11. 

18* (Large.) 

5 . 

12. (Rather Full.) 

19. 

6. (Small.) 

T 3 - 

20. (Very Large.) 

7 - 

14. (Full.) 

21. 


The intermediate numbers, 3, 5, 7, etc., denote something be¬ 
tween the two denominations, and have been found useful. 

In practice, the general size of the head is measured, in several 
directions, with calliper compasses. Twenty males, from twenty-five 
to fifty years of age, measured, from the occipital spine (the bony knot 
over the hollow of the neck) to the point over the nose between the 
eyebrows, on an average, 7 1-2 inches; some of them being as high as 
8 1-2, and others as low as 6 1-2. From the occipital spine to the 
hollow of the ear, the average was 4 3-8, some being as high as 5, 
others as low as 3 1-2. From the hollow of the ear to the point be¬ 
tween the eyebrows, as above, average was nearly 5 ; some being 5 1-2, 
others 4 1-2. From the same hollow of the ear to the top of the head, 
about an inch behind the center (the organ of Firmness), the average 
was 5 9-15 ; some being 6 1-2, others 5 1-2. Across the head from a 
little below the tops of the ears (from Destructiveness to Destruc¬ 
tiveness), the average was 5 3-10; same being 6 1-2, others 5 1-2. The 
averages are in these twenty individuals higher than those of the 
natives of Britain generally, some of them being large, and none 
small. 

Phrenologists further distinguish between power and activity in 
the organs of the brain. Power, in whatever degree possessed, is 
capability of feeling, perceiving, or thinking; while activity is the 
exercise of pozver } or the putting into action the organ with more or 
less intensity. 

The powers of mind, as manifested by the organs, are called 
faculties . A faculty may be defined to be a particular power of 
thinking or feeling. A faculty has seven characteristics, in order 
to our concluding it primitive and distinct in the mind, viz.: 

1. When it exists in one kind of animal and not in another. 2. 
When it varies in the two sexes of the same species; 3. When it is not 
in proportion to the other faculties of the same individual; 4. When it 
appears earlier or later in life than the other faculties ; 5. When it 







254 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


may act or repose singly ; 6. When it is propagated from parent to 
child ; and, 7. When it may singly preserve health, or singly manifest 
disease. 

Division or Classification of the Faculties : The faculties have 
been divided by Gall and Spurzheim into two great orders— Feeling 
and Intellect, or Affective and Intellectual Faculties. The 
feelings are divided into two genera—the Propensities and the Senti¬ 
ments. By a propensity is meant an internal impulse, which incites to 
a certain action, and no more : by a sentiment, a feeling which, although 
it has inclination, has also an emotion superadded. 

No. 1.— Amativeness. —This organ is situated immediately over 
the nape of the neck, and fills up the space between the ears 
behind, or rather between the mastoid processes, or projecting bones 
behind the ears. It generally forms a projection in that part, and gives 
a thickness to the neck when it is large, and a spareness when small 

As the basis of domestic affections, it is one of great im¬ 
portance, and its regulation has ever been one of the prime objects 
of moral systems, laws, and institutions. 

No. 2.— Philoprogenitiveness.— This, in man as well as in 
animals, is the feeling of the love for his offspring. It depends on 
no other faculty, as reason or benevolence; it is primitive ; and in the 
mother, who, for wise reasons, is gifted with it most strongly, its 
object, the infant, instantly rouses it to a high state of excitement. 
It is situated in the middle of the back of the head, and when large, 
projects like a portion of an ostrich egg. The organ is one of the 
easiest to distinguish in the human head. Those who are flat and 
perpendicular there, instead of being delighted, are annoyed by 
children. It is generally smaller in males than in females, though 
sometimes found larger; and men so organized delight to carry 
about and nurse children. The feeling gives a tender sympathy 
generally with weakness and helplessness ; and we find it often 
returned by the young themselves to the old and feeble. It is 
essential to a soft, kind attendant on the sick, to a nur^e or 
nursery-maid, and to a teacher of youth. It induces women to make 
pets of small and gentle animals, when tyrant circumstances have 
kept them single, and denied them offspring of their own. Its 
feelings are, by a kind Providence, rendered so delightful, that they 
are extremely apt to be carried to the length of excess ; and spoiling 
and pampering children into vicious selfishness is the ruinous conse¬ 
quences. 



PHRENOLOGY. 


2 55 


No. 3.— Inhabitiveness. — Concentrativeness. —The organ is sit¬ 
uated immediately above the preceding. The purpose of a faculty 
which prompts men to settle instead of roaming, which latter habit is 
inconsistent with agriculture, commerce, and civilization, is obvious ; 
nostalgia , or home-sickness, is the disease of the feeling. 

No. 4.— Adhesiveness. —This organ is at the middle of the pos¬ 
terior edge of the parietal bone. It attaches men, and even animals, 
to each other, and is the foundation of that pleasure which we feel, 
not only in bestowing but receiving friendship. It is the faculty 
which prompts the embrace and the shake of the hand, and gives 
the joy of being reunited to friends. Acting in conjunction with 
Amativeness, it gives constancy and duration to the attachments of 
the married. Amativeness alone will not be found sufficient for 
this. Hence the frequent misery of sudden love marriages, as they 
are called, founded on that single impulse. The feeling attaches many 
persons to pets, such as birds, dogs, rabbits, horses, and other animals, 
especially when combined with Philoprogenitiveness. With this combi¬ 
nation, the girl lavishes caresses on her doll, and on her little companions. 

No. 5.— Combativeness. —The organ of this propensity is situated 
behind, and a little upward from, the ear ; anatomically, at the pos¬ 
terior-inferior angle of the parietal bone. A small endowment of this 
faculty manifests itself in that over-gentle and indolent character, 
which is easily aggressed upon, easily repelled by the appearance of 
difficulty and trouble, and which naturally seeks the shades and eddy- 
corners of life. Nations so organized—the Hindoos, for example— 
are easily conquered by others, under whom they naturally sink into 
a condition more or less of servitude. A large endowment, on the 
other hand, shows itself in a love of danger for its own sake, a delight 
in adventurous military life, and a tendency to bluster, controversy, 
and turmoils of all kinds. Persons with large combativeness may be 
readily recognized in private society by their disposition to contradict 
and wrangle. They challenge the clearest propositions, and take a 
pleasure in doubting where everybody else is convinced. The gen¬ 
erality of boys manifest an active combativeness in their adventurous 
spirit, hence their disposition to fighting, and to the working of all 
kinds of petty mischief. To control and guide the propensity is one 
of the most delicate, but also most important, duties of the edu¬ 
cator. When combativeness is deranged, we have a violent and noisy, 
and often a dangerous patient. Intoxication generally affords a great 
stimulus to it, hence, drunken quarrels and fightings. 




256 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


No. 6.— Destructiveness. —This organ is situated on both sides 
of the head, immediately over the external opening of the ear, ex¬ 
tending a little forward and backward from it, and rising a trifle above 
the top or upper flap of the ear. It corresponds to the lower portion 
of the squamous plate of the temporal bone. When the organ is 
large, the opening of the ear is depressed. It is still generally con¬ 
sidered as giving the impulse to kill and destroy ; but, in man, this 
propensity is shown to have, under the control of the higher sen¬ 
timents and intellect, a legitimate sphere of exercise. It prompts 
beasts and birds of prey to keep down the redundant breeds of the 
lower animals, and enables man to “ kill ” that he may “ eat.” Anger, 
resentment and indignation, in all their shapes, likewise spring from 
this faculty. 

A small endowment of this faculty is one of the elements of a 
“ soft ” character. Persons so organized seem to want that which gives 
momentum to human operations, like an axe wanting in back weight. 

AlimentivenesSy or Appetite for Food. —Alimentiveness is the 
desire of, or appetite for food. In this feeling, as such, the stomach 
is not concerned ; its functions are strictly confined to the reception 
and digestion of our food. 

Alimentiveness, from its near neighborhood to Destructiveness, 
seems to have a peculiar influence on that faculty, rousing it to great 
energy when its own enjoyments are endangered or interrupted. 

Love of Life. —The self-preservation involved in the love of life 
is certainly not accounted for by any known organ or combination of 
organs. Cautiousness is fear of injury, fear of death ; but it is not 
love of life. This feeling is powerfully manifested by some when 
their life is in no danger, but who look upon the close of life as a 
very great evil. 

No. 7.— Secretiveness. —The order of this faculty will be observed 
to be situated immediately above that of destructiveness, at the in¬ 
ferior edge of the parietal bone, or in the middle of the side of the 
brain. The legitimate use of the faculty is to exercise that control 
over the outward manifestation of the other faculties which is 
necessary to a prudent reserve. Without it, and of course, in those 
in whom the organ is small, and the manifestation weak, the feelings 
express themselves too openly. 

No. 8.— Acquisitiveness. —The organ of this faculty is situated 
farther forward than, and a little above, Secretiveness, at the anterior- 
inferior angle of the parietal bone. 






PHRENOLOGY. 


257 


The faculty of Acquisitiveness could not, and no faculty could, 
be given to man by his Creator for a mean, groveling and immoral 
use; accordingly, when we consider it aright, we recognize in it the 
dignity of the greatest utility. In a word, it is the faculty through 
whose impulse man accumulates capital , and nations are rendered 
rich, great and powerful. Without the faculty, man would be con¬ 
tent to satisfy his daily wants, although even in this he would fail; but 
the surplus which, under the impulse of this faculty, he contributes to 
the store of wealth which accumulates from generation to generation, 
would not exist. Under proper regulation, then, the faculty is of the 
greatest value to man ; by means of it he “ gathers up the fragments, 
that nothing may be lost.” Excessive pursuit of wealth is, however, 
an abuse of the faculty, and too much the vice of civilization, when it 
advances as it has hitherto done, without adequate moral im¬ 
provement. 

No. 9— Constructiveness. —The situation of this organ is imme¬ 
diately behind the temples, in the frontal bone, above the spheno- 
temporal suture. The faculty of which this organ is the instrument, 
is the power of mechanically making, constructing and fashioning, by 
changing the forms of matter. Many of the inferior animals possess 
it, as the bee, the beaver, birds and insects. Some savages have it in 
such small endowments as never to have built huts or made clothes, 
or even the simplest instruments for catching fish. In all operatives 
who excel in their arts—engravers, joiners, tailors, etc.,—and in chil¬ 
dren who early manifest a turn for drawing figures, and cutting them 
out in paper, the organ is large. 

GENUS II.—SENTIMENTS. 

I. SENTIMENTS COMMON TO MAN AND THE LOWER ANIMALS. 

No. 10.— Self-Esteem. —-The situation of this organ is at the top 
of the back of the head, at the center ; forming, as it were, the curve 
or turn between the back and the top of the head. Technically, it is 
a little above the posterior or sagittal angle of the parietal bones. 
When it is large, the head rises far upward and backward from the 
ear, in the direction of the organ. The legitimate use of the faculty 
of Self-Esteem, or Self-Love, is that degree of self-complacency 
which enhances the pleasures of life, and which gives the individual 
confidence in his own powers, and leads him to apply them to the best 
advantage. It is sometimes called proper pride, or self-respect, in 

17 







253 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


which form it aids the moral sentiments in resisting temptations to 
vice and self-degradation ; this is called being above doing a criminal, 
a vicious, or a mean action. Its deficiency renders an individual 
too humble, and the world takes him at his word, and pushes him aside. 
In large and uncontrolled endowment, it produces great abuses, and 
causes much annoyance and often misery to others. It is the 
quarreling, insulting, domineering, tyrannizing, dueling faculty. In 
children it is pettishness, forwardness, and self-will, and produces 
disobedience. In adults, it gives arrogance, superciliousness and 
selfishness. 

No. ii .—Love of Approbation .—This organ is situated on each 
side close to Self-Esteem, and commences about half an inch from 
the lamboidal suture. It gives, when large, a marked fullness to the 
upper part of the back of the head. 

The faculty, unless kept in subordination by a very large and 
vigilant Conscientiousness, prompts to all the conventional insin¬ 
cerities and flatteries of society, from the dread that the truth will 
offend Self-Esteem, and draw down on the teller of it disap¬ 
probation. When Secretiveness is large, and Conscientiousness 
small, Love of Approbation is profuse in the unmeaning compliments 
of society. 

No. 12. — Cautiousness .—The organ of this faculty is situated 
about the middle of the parietal bone on both sides. 

It has been said that fear is the fundamental feeling of this 
faculty. It is an important element in prudence, which places the 
individual on his guard and warns him not to be rash in his moral as 
well as his physical movements. In general, the organ is large in 
children—a wise and beneficent provision for their protection. The 
organ is often diseased, and then produces causeless dread of evil, 
despondency, and often suicide. 

II. SUPERIOR SENTIMENTS PROPER TO MAN. 

No. 13.— Benevolence .—The organ of this sentiment is situated at 
the upper part of the frontal bone, immediately before the fontanel, 
in the middle of the top of the forehead, where it turns to form part 
of the top of the head, or coronal surface. It is easily distinguished, 
and when large, gives a round, elevated swell to that region. When 
the organ is small the forehead or top-front is low, flat, and 
retreating. 

The faculty of Benevolence gives more than compassion for, and 





PHRENOLOGY. 


2 59 


a desire to relieve, suffering ; it gives a wish that others should be 
positively happy ; prompts to active, laborious, and continued exer¬ 
tions ; and unless Acquisitiveness be very large and powerful, to 
liberal giving to promote its favorite object. It differs essentially 
in its charity, “which suffereth long and is kind,” and “vaunteth not 
itself,” from that which springs from Love of Approbation. 

No. 14.— Veneration. —The organ of this faculty occupies the 
center of the coronal region just at the fontanel—the center of the 
top of the head. The function of this faculty is the sentiment of 
veneration, or deference in general for superiority, for greatness, and 
goodness. Its highest object is the Deity. It is remarkable in how 
many instances the painters of sacred subjects have given large 
development of this organ in the heads of their apostles and saints 
—no doubt, because the pious individuals whom they naturally 
select as studies for such characters, possessed the organ large. 
Veneration Las no special object; it finds appropriate exercise with 
regard to whatever is deemed superior. Without this sentiment to 
make man look up to man, a people would be like a rope of sand, and 
society could not exist. 

No. 15.— Firmness. —The organ of this faculty occupies the top 
of the head, behind Veneration, in the middle line. It is a faculty of 
peculiar character. It gives fortitude, constancy, perseverance, and 
determination ; and when too powerful, it produces obstinacy, stub¬ 
bornness and infatuation. With Self-Esteem, it renders the individual 
absolutely impracticable. The want of it is a great defect in 
character ; it is unsteadiness of purpose. 

No. 16. — Conscientiousness. —The organ of this sentiment is 
situated on each side of the organ of Firmness, between the latter 
organ and that of Cautiousness. 

Conscientiousness gives the emotion of justice, but intellect is 
necessary to show on which side justice lies. The judge must hear 
both sides before deciding, and his very wish to be just will prompt 
him to do so. This faculty regulates all the other faculties by its 
rio-id rules. Conscientiousness not only curbs our faculties when too 
powerful, but stimulates those that are too weak, and prompts us to 
duty even against strong inclinations. To cultivate it in children is 
most important. 

Ho. 1 7.— Hope. —The organ of this faculty has its place on each 
side of Veneration, partly under the frontal, and partly under the 
parietal bone. When not regulated by the intellect, Hope leads to 





260 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


rash speculation, and, in combination with Acquisitiveness, to 
gambling, both at the gaming-table and in the counting-house. It 
tends to render the individual credulous, and often indolent. In 
religion, hope leads to faith, and strongly disposes to a belief in a 
happy life to come. 

No. 18.— -Wonder. —-The organ of this faculty is situated on each 
side of that of Benevolence, with one other organ, that of Imitation, 
interposed. Technically, it has its place in the lateral parts of the 
interior region of the vertex. 

Persons with the faculty powerfully developed are fond of news, 
especially if striking and wonderful, and are always expressing 
astonishment ; their reading is much in the regions of the marvelous, 
tales of wonder, of enchanters, ghosts, and witches. 

No. 19.— Ideality. —The organ of this faculty is situated farther 
down, but close to that of Wonder, along the temporal ridge of the 
frontal bone. 

The faculty delights in the perfect, the exquisite, the beau ideal 
■—something beyond the scenes of reality—something in the regions 
of romance and fancy—of the beautiful and the sublime. Those 
writers and speakers who possess it largely adorn all they say or write 
with its vivid inspirations. It is the organ of imagery. The faculty 
renders conversation elevated, animated and eloquent, the opposite of 
dry and dull. 

No. 20.— Wit , or the Ludicrous. —The organ of this faculty is 
situated before, and a little lower than that of Ideality. When large, 
it gives a breadth to the upper region of the forehead. 

No. 2 1.— Imitation. —This organ is situated on each side of that 
of Benevolence. The Imitative arts depend on this faculty; and its 
organ is found large, accordingly, in painters and sculptors of 
eminence. 


ORDER SECOND.-INTELLECTUAL FACULTIES. 

By these faculties man and animals perceive or gain knowledoe 
of the external world, and likewise of their own mental operations. 
The object of the faculties is to know what exists, and to perceive 
qualities and relations. Dr. Spurzheim divided them into three gen¬ 
era : 1. The External Senses ; 2. The Internal Senses, or Per¬ 

ceptive Faculties, which procure knowledge of external objects, their 
physical qualities and relations ; 3. The Reflecting Faculties. 

Genus I.— External Senses. —By these, man and the inferior 













PHRENOLOGY. 


261 


animals are brought into communication with the external material 
world. The senses, as generally received, are five in number— Touch, 
Taste , Smell , Hearing and Sight. There are certainly two more, 
namely, the sense of Hunger and Thirst , and the Muscular sense , or 
that by which we feel the state of our muscles as acted upon by grav¬ 
itation and the resistance of matter. Without this last sense we 
could not keep our balance, or suit our movements to the laws of the 
mechanical world. 

Genus II.— Intellectual Faculties, which Procure Knowledge °f 
External Objects , of their Physical Qualities , arid Various Relations. 
—These faculties correspond in some degree with the perceptive 
powers of the metaphysicians, and form ideas. 

No. 22.— Individuality. —The organ of this faculty is situated in 
the middle of the lower part of the forehead, immediately above the 
top of the nose. It takes cognizance of individual existences--of a 
horse, for example. As Individuality merely observes existences 
without regard to their modes of action, it is the faculty of the nat¬ 
uralist. Those who possess it large and active, observe the minutest 
objects ; nothing escapes them, and they remember even the minutest 
objects so well, that they will miss them when taken away. On the 
contrary, those who have it small, observe nothing, and give the most 
imperfect account of the objects which have been in their way. 

No. 23.— Form. —This organ is situated on each side of, and 
close to the crista galli , and occupies the space between the eyes. In 
those who have it large, the eyes are wide asunder and vice versa. As 
every material object must have a form, regular or irregular, this fac¬ 
ulty was given to man and animals to perceive forms, and they could 
not exist without it. When large, it constitutes an essential element 
in a talent for drawing, but requires Size and Constructiveness to 
perfect the talent. 

No . 24.— Size. — Every object has a size or dimension. Hence a 
faculty is necessary to cognize this quality. The organ is situated at 
the inner extremities of the eyebrows, where they turn upon the nose. 
A perception of Size is important to our movements and actions, and 
essentially to our safety. There is no accuracy in drawing or per¬ 
spective without this organ. 

No. 25.— Weight. —Weight is a quality of matter quite distinct 
from all its other qualities. The weight of any material object is only 
another name for its degree of gravitating tendency—its attractability 
to the earth. A power to perceive the different degrees of this 




262 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


attraction is essential to man’s movements, safety, and even existence. 
There must be a faculty for that perception, and that faculty must 
have a cerebral instrument or organ. Phrenologists have generally 
localized that organ in the superorpital ridge or eyebrow, immediately 
next to Size, and farther from the top of the nose. 

No. 26.— Coloring .—As every object must have a color in oraer 
to be visible, it seems necessary that there should be a faculty to cog¬ 
nize this quality. The organ is the next outward from weight in the 
eyebrows, occupying the precise center of each eyebrow. 

No. 27.— Locality .—Objects themselves are cognized by Indi¬ 
viduality ; but their place, the direction where they lie, the way to 
them depend on another faculty, a faculty given for that purpose. 
Without such a power, men and animals must, in situations where 
objects were numerous, and complicated in their positions, as woods, 
have lost their way. No man could find his own home, no bird its 
own nest, no mouse its own hole. The faculty, when active, prompts 
the individual to localize everything, and think of it as in its place. 
One glance at a paragraph or advertisement in a newspaper fixes its 
place in their minds, so that they will turn over the largest and most 
voluminous newspaper, and know in what column, and part of a col¬ 
umn, they will find it ; -or direct others to do so. A person with the 
faculty powerful, will go in the dark to find what he wants, and will 
find it if in its place. Skillful chess-players invariably have the origin 
of Locality large, and it is believed that it is the organ of which they 
make the principal use ;* for it gives the power of conceiving, 
before making a move, the effect of new relative positions of the 
pieces. 

No. 28.— Number .—The organ of this faculty is placed at the 
outer extremity of the eyebrows and angle of the eye. It occasions, 
when large, a fullness or breadth of the temple, and often draws 
downward the external corner of the eye. When it is small, the part 
is flat and narrow between the eye and the Temple. Their number 
is a very important relation or condition of things, and requires a 
distinct perspective power. Our safety, and even existence, may de¬ 
pend on a clear perception of Number. 

No. 29.— Order .—The organ of this faculty is placed in the eye¬ 
brow, between Coloring and Number, and is large and prominent, 
and often pointed like a limpet-shell, in those who are remarkable for 
love of method, arrangement and love of symmetry, and are annoyed 
by confusion and irregularity. The marked love of order in some 









PHRENOLOGY. 263 

persons, and their suffering from disorder, are feelings which no other 
faculty, or combination of faculties, seems to embrace. 

No. 30. Eventuality. —The organ of this faculty is situated in 
the very center of the forehead, and when large, gives to this part of 
the head a rounded prominence. Individuality has been called the 
faculty of nouns: Eventuality is the faculty of verbs. The first per¬ 
ceives mere existence ; the other motion, change, event, history. All 
knowledge must be of one or the other of these two descriptions— 
either things that are , or things that happen. In the following ex¬ 
amples—the man speaks , the wind blows , the day dawns , the nouns 
cognized by Individuality are printed in small capitals, while the verbs 
addressed to Eventuality, are in italics. 

No. 31. Time. —Whatever be the essence of time as an entity, 
it is a reality to man, cognizable by a faculty by which he observes its 
lapse. Some persons are called walking timepieces ; they can tell the 
hour without looking at a watch ; and some even can do so, nearly, 
when waking in the night. The faculty also marks the minute 
divisions of- duration, and their relations and harmonies, which are 
called time in music, and rhythm in versification. 

No. 32. Tune. —The organ of this faculty is situated still further 
out than that of Time, giving roundness to the point where the fore¬ 
head turns to form the temples. It is large in great musicians ; and 
when small and hollow, there is an utter incapacity to distinguish 
either melody or harmony. 

No. 33. Language. —A faculty is given to man and animals 
which connects feelings with signs and cries ; but to man alone is 
given articulate speech. The comparative facility with which different 
men clothe their thoughts in words, depends on the size of this organ, 
which is situated in the super-orbital plate, immediately over the 
eyeball, and when large, pushes the eye outward, and sometimes 
downward, producing, in the latter case, a wrinkling or pursing of the 
lower eyelid. There is no fluent speaker deficient in this organ. 

Internal Excitement of the Knowing Organs—Spectral Illu¬ 
sions. —The. Knowing Organs are for the most part called into activity 
by external objects, such as forms, colors, sounds, individual things, 
etc.; but internal causes often excite them, and when they are in action 
objects will be perceived which have no external existence, and which, 
nevertheless, the individual will believe to be real. This is the 
explanation of visions, specters and ghosts, and at once explains the 
firm belief of many that they have appeared to them, and the fact 








264 ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 

that it never happens that two persons see the same specters at the 
same time. 

GENUS III.—REFLECTIVE FACULTIES. 

The Intellectual Faculties already considered, give us knowledge 
of objects, and the qualities and relations of objects, also of the 
changes they undergo, or events. 

No. 34. Comparison .—Every faculty can compare its own ob¬ 
jects. Coloring can compare colors ; Weight, weights; Form, forms; 
Tune, sounds ; but Comparison can compare a color with a note, or a 
form with a weight, etc. Analogy is a comparison not of things, 
but of their relations. 

No. 35. Causality .—This is the highest and noblest of the intel¬ 
lectual powers, and is the last in the phrenological analysis of the fac¬ 
ulties. Dr. Spurzheim so named it, from observing that it traces the 
connection between cause and effect , and sees the relations of ideas to 
each other in respect of necessary consequence. Its organs are situated 
on each side of Comparison. With a powerful perception of cau¬ 
sation, the individual reasons from cause to effect by logical or necessary 
consequence. It is the faculty which sees principles and acts upon 
them, while the other two faculties only try experiments. Resource 
in difficulties, and sound judgment in life, are the result of powerful 
Causality. 





% 


FENCING. 


Out-door exercises are the best as a general rule, but the weather 
does not always admit of them. Of in-door games, tennis and racquet 
stand very high ; but it is seldom that one lives near a court—it is a 
great chance if it is disengaged, if one does—and the expense is con¬ 
siderable. Now, any barn, out-house, or unfurnished room will do for 
fencing, which is, after all, the finest exercise in the world; for it is 
the only one I know of that brings every muscle in the body equally 
and impartially into play, while the skill required makes it extremely 
interesting. The hand and eye learn to act together more rapidly 
than in any other practice, so that the cricketer who has fenced all 
the winter would be astonished to find how much smarter he had 
grown during the months that his bat was lying idle in the corner. 

But mind this, fencing is the most stupid amusement in the world 
if it is not practised properly. Two fellows standing opposite, and 
poking at each other with foils, would soon get tired of the operation ; 
or, if they did not, they might keep on at it for six hours a day all 
their lives, and never improve a little bit. Nay, they would probably 
incapacitate themselves from ever learning to fence at all, such bad 
habits would they acquire. 

The first steps in learning anything are bound to be tedious ; a 
grammar book is never lively reading. But unless you will mug a 
bit at grammar you will never learn the language properly, and if you 
slur over the rudiments of fencing you will never do any good at it. 
And even after you have attained a certain proficiency, it is very 
necessary to be careful how to indulge in loose play, especially with 
opponents inferior to yourself, or your hand will soon lose its cun¬ 
ning, and it will take a strict course of lunging to get it in again. 

Now, I do not mean to tell you that you can learn to fence as 

265 




266 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


well from a book as you can from the personal instruction of a good 
master ; but good masters are not always to be had, and many drill- 
sergeants who profess to teach fencing know nothing at all about it. 
And I will say that if you carefully follow the instructions here 
given, you will make much better progress than by picking up the 
faults of a gymnast who finds it necessary to profess to teach an art 
of which he is entirely ignorant, in addition to those exercises which 
are his peculiar province. 

Only, you must be a little patient and attentive. I on my part 
will be as clear in my descriptions as I can, if you on yours will try to 
understand them by comparing them with the diagrams, and taking 
pains to place yourself in the correct attitudes. 

Before we begin our instructions, a few hints about equipment 
may be useful. 

Health and comfort will be promoted by wearing a flannel shirt 
and trousers under the defensive clothing, which must consist of mask, 
jacket, glove with gauntlet, and thigh-piece or apron. The masks 
must be made on the French plan of twisting the wire, so as to form 
a hexagonal mesh. English wire-work is unsafe, as the broken end 
of a foil would stab through it. 

The German foil blades that are imported from Solingen marked 
“King’s Head” have the oldest reputations. 

For the jacket, some men prefer soft leather, lined and padded ; 
others choose a leather which is stouter and stiffer, and requires no 
lining ; but however it is made, it must be high and stiff in the collar, 
to guard the neck. 

The glove must be nicely stuffed at the back of the fingers, and 
the thumb end well covered, to protect the nail in case of a jar; 
the palm of very soft, pliable leather, so as not to interfere with the 
grip of the sword hilt; the gauntlet long enough to guard the wrist. 

You should wear a thigh-piece, strapped round the middle and 
the upper part of the leg, and having a flap to pass between the legs, 
kept in its place by a third strap fastening it to the waist behind. 
Or, if you prefer it, a leather apron will answer the same purpose. 

The shoes should be soft and pliable, but we do not recommend 
India-rubber soles, which heat the feet. Some fencers like to have a 
broad flap spreading beyond and on both sides of the right shoe. 

The great matter is to feel easy and comfortable, and not to 
wear anything which cramps the free play of the limbs, or impedes 
the circulation. 


FENCING. 


267 


When the foil becomes bent, it should be readily straightened by 
laying it on the ground, placing your foot upon it, and drawing it 
upward in the opposite direction. 

The foil is a quadrangular blade ; it should measure thirty-four 
inches from point to hilt. The most esteemed foil blades, as we have 
already seen, are manufactured at Solingen, and bear that name. 

Beware of the flat blades, flexible as a riding-whip, sold in some 
toy shops. 

The handle should be seven inches long, almost square, slightly 
curved, of uniform size throughout, and should be covered with 
twisted twine of two sizes. 

The best hilt is the ordinary open iron one, but both sides should 
be bent upward, to protect the thumb and fingers from injury, and 
should also have a piece of strong leather or buffalo hide on the side 
next the handle. 

The button on the point is sometimes covered with a bit of card¬ 
board, with wash-leather tied over it, but gutta-percha will be found 
more convenient. Take a small square of that substance, warm the 
point, and mould the gutta-percha over it. 

The object of he who desires to become a good swordsman 
must be to combine with perfect coolness, the greatest possible rapidity 
of movement, with firmness on the legs, and suppleness of body ; to 
parry without effort, and yet effectively ; to feint with safety. 

Five qualities are necessary for the attainment of this ideal: 
Knowledge, precision, rapidity, a quick eye, and a strong wrist. The 

first three are only to be acquired by careful practice 
of the rudiments before loose practice is indulged in. 
Let us, therefore, begin with 

THE POSITION. 

If attitude is not “ everything v in fencing, it is 
at least a very great deal, for without securing a 
correct position, into which the learner shall fall 
instinctively, without thinking about it, further pro¬ 
gress is impossible. The more pains he takes to come 
on guard and lunge correctly the quicker will he get 

Place yourself with your right breast opposite the adversary, your 
eyes fixed on his, your right foot pointing to the front, the left to the 
left, at right angles ; the right heel in front of the left ankle ; the body 



Fig. 1. 

Correct Attitude 
“First Position.” 


on afterward. 





268 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


upright ; the hips rather drawn back, but without constraint; the head 
erect, but not thrown back ; the hands hanging easily at the sides, the 
left holding the foil as if it were a sword in its scabbard, convex side 

of the handle upward (Fig. i.) 

Raise the right hand in front of the body as high 
as the face, palm upward, and bring it across to the 
hilt of the foil, which grasp lightly. Raise both hands 
above the head, separating them, so that the left hand 
shall hold the point of the foil (big. 2.) 

Bring down the right arm with the foil, until the 
elbow is about on a level with the waist, and some eight 
„ . . , inches in front of it ; thumb along the surface of the 

Correct Attitude. > ^ . 

“Second Position.” hilt; forefinger under the thumb; the point of the 

foil as high as the chin; the fore-arm and foil in a straight line. 

The left arm must remain in the position in which it held the point 

above the head, except that the palm of the hand is to be turned to 

the front. Then, without moving the body, head, or neck, bend both 

knees, sinking down as low as you can, and advance the right foot 

some twelve or fourteen inches, so that the leg from the knee to the 

ground is perpendicular (Fig. 3.) Now you are on guard, which is 

the position from which all attacks are made, and in which all attacks 

are parried. Short men should have their guard as high as their 

necks, men of middle height a little above the middle of the chest; 

tall men should take the middle exactly. As a rule, you must always 

regulate the height of your guard by that of your adversary. 

Pay great attention to the hold you have of the hilt, for upon it 
depends that freedom and suppleness of the wrist, without which the 
various movements to be described hereafter cannot be performed. 
However the arm and hand may be turned 
and twisted, no finger should ever stir from 
the position in which it is first placed on the 
handle (Fig. 4.) The foil then must be held 
firmly, but not grasped hard ; the thumb 
advanced along the upper side of the hilt, and 
nearly touching the shell ; the forefinger 
exactly underneath it ; the other finger close 
up to the forefinger, not separated. 

Remember, also, with regard to the feet, that in all positions, 
whether you advance, retire, or lunge, they must remain as they are 
placed when on guard, z'. e., at right angles, the right foot pointing to 




Fig. 2. 































FENCING. 


269 


the front, the left to the left; for if the toes are turned outward or 
inward, the body will at once lose its balance, while in the case of 
lungeing, your point will be turned aside from the adversary’s breast. 

The Advance .— Take a short, quick pace to the front with the 
right foot, which must not be raised high, but just skim the ground. 

As the right foot touches, bring up the 
left the same distance, taking care to 
keep the feet in their relative positions, 
i. e. r at right angles, and the right heel 
on a line with the left ankle. 

The Retreat .—Take a short, quick pace to the rear with left foot, 
and as it touches the ground bring back the right foot, planting it 
firmly on the ground. 

The Lunge .—Straighten the right arm, raising the hand, and 
depressing the point of the foil, until arm and foil form one horizontal 
line ; and as you do this turn the nails upward. Then step forward 
from fifteen to eighteen inches, with the right foot, and straighten the 
left leg by pressing back the knee, taking care not to move the left 
foot, which must be kept flat and firmly planted ; at the same time, let 
the left hand fall to within a few inches of the thigh (Fig. 5.) 

After a little practice, these actions are performed simul¬ 
taneously, but it is of such vital importance that the nails should be 
turned upward—a slight movement which gives strength and sup¬ 
pleness to the wrist, while it communicates rigidity and accuracy of 
direction to the sword—and also that the arm should be perfectly 
straight when the right foot starts forward, that you must begin by 
making two distinct movements ; first straighten the arm, then lunge. 
It is well to have a mark on the ad¬ 
versary’s plastron to aim your point at ; 
or, for private practice, make a mark 
on a wall at the height of the center of 
a man’s breast, and lunge at that. 

Pay great attention to the position 
of the body when extended; see 
that the feet remain at right angles ; 
that the right leg is perpendicular from 
the knee to the ankle—if the foot is beyond the perpendicular line, 
you have u lunged’’ too far—that the head and shoulders are not 
bent forward, but retain the same position as when on guard. 

The lowering of the left arm is of use in preserving the balance. 



Fig. 5. The Lunge. 















2 JO 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


To recover from the extended position, press the ground with the 
right foot, springing back to the position of the guard, re-bending the 
left knee, and tossing up the left hand again. These are the move¬ 
ments which may be considered as having reference to the position in 
fencing. 

That half of the foil which is nearest the handle is called the 
forte , the other half the faible. 

Constantly to oppose the forte of your own blade to the faible 
of your enemy, is one of the secrets of fencing. Therefore you 
should try to keep your wrist raised a little above that of your ad¬ 
versary, so as to dominate his, in the upper lines ; in the lower lines, 
keep your wrist a little lower than his. 

The Line is the direction which the foil should take either for 
attack or defense, pointing to the opponent’s body, not his ex¬ 
tremities. 

The Defense .—Pupil and instructor are on guard opposite to one 
another at lungeing distance ; the blades of their foils joined on the 
inner lines, touching, but not pressing one another. 

A swordsman presenting his point to the front, either defensively 
or offensively, may be himself attacked in one of the following four 
directions, termed the lines of defense : 

On the left of his sword-hand beneath the hilt on the low 
inside line. 

On the right of his sword-hand beneath the hilt, on the low out¬ 
side line. 

On the right of his sword-hand above the hilt on the high out¬ 
side line. 

On the left of his sword-hand above the hilt on the high inside 

line. 

It will thus be seen that, with a sword of ordinary length, one 
only of these lines can be defended at a time, and consequently the 
three other lines must remain open to attack. 

For the defense of each line there are two parries, the sword 
in both cases being placed in a similar direction, the parries 
themselves differing only in the position of the sword’s edge, the 
a bein^ held in the one case in supination (the nails turned 
upward), and in the other in pronation (the nails turned downward) 
These eight parries are called ; 

1. Prime. 

2. Seconde. 


3. Tierce. 

4. Quarte. 



FENCING. 


271 

5. Quinte. 7. Septime (or half circle). 

6. Sixte. 8. Octave. 

The allotment of these eight parries to the four lines of defense 
is thus : From the center of the breast, and with the elbow moderately 
bent. 


1 Prime 
and 

7 Septime (or 
half-circle.) 

t Second 
and 

8 Octave. 

3 Tierce 
and 

6 Sixte. 


1' The hand tending to the left, the point lowered and 
) inclined to the left, the nails turned down. 

j The same, but with the nails turned up, and the arm 
( elongated. 


Parry the attack 
directed on the 
inside low. 


The hand tending to the right, the arm straightened, 
the point lowered and inclined to the right, the 
nails turned down. 

The same, but with the nails turned up. 


Parry the attack 
directed on the 
outside low. 


( The hand tending to the right, the point raised and 
J inclined to the right, the finger nails turned down. 

I The same, but with the nails turned up. 


Parry the attack 
directed on the 
outside high. 


4 Quarte 

and 

5 Quinte. 


The hand tending to the left, the point raised and 
inclined to the left, the nails turned up (slightly.) 

The same, but with the nails turned down. 


Parry the attack 
directed on the 
inside high. 


These parries are effected with the forte of the blade upon the 
adversary’s faible, either by a sharp beat or a simple pressure. Ob¬ 
serve that in each of the two parries which may be employed to meet 
the same attack, the foil blade follows the same line, so that the point 
is in exactly the same spot when the movement is completed, the dif¬ 
ference lying in the position of the wrist, arm and elbow, caused by 
turning the nails up or down. 

The question may then be asked, why this complication ? 

Because the parry should always be formed with the view to 
reposting, or attacking immediately the adversary’s blade is turned 
aside, and this is most readily and effectively done, sometimes with 
the hand in supination, at others in pronation. Thus, the double 
parry gives scope for the attainment of that most desirable object in 
fencing, variation in the attack. 

Crossing swords with your opponent is termed the engagement; 
when in attacking you he shifts his blade into a new line, as from the 
inside to the outside, or vice versa, he disengages. In the engagement 
the sword should be held securely, but without strain ; at the moment 
of parrying, the hold should be tightened. 

Simple parries are those which are made when, on the 
adversary’s disengagement, your point is passed in direct course either 
from tierce to quarte, or quarte to tierce (high lines); septime to sec- 
onde, seconde to septime (low lines); or when the point is raised or 


272 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 



Quarte. 


lowered from the high to the low, or from the low to the high lines on 
the same side, e. g } from quarte to septime, septime to quarte. Thus 

the simple parries always throw off the attack 
in the line in which it is directed. 

Counter-parries are when the sword-hand, 
in parrying a disengagement, describes with 
the point a circular course round the ad¬ 
versary’s blade, until it meets again in the line 
of the original engagement, throwing off the 
attack in an opposite line from that in which 
it is directed. 

This circular movement—done by the 
action of the fingers more than by that of the 
wrist—commences under the adversary’s blade 
in the high lines, and over his blade in the low ; thus, from the en¬ 
gagement of quarte (the foils joined on the inside), on the adversary’s 
disengagement by the circle is described by 
lowering the point, passing it under his blade 
toward the right, returning it upward, and re¬ 
suming the position of quarte. 

From the engagement in the other 
lines, the disengagements are 
parried upon the same principle, 
as will be clear if you refer to 
the diagram, where the arrow- 
heads denote the course taken by 
the foil. 

The counter or round parry 
may also be used to meet a direct 
thrust, without disengagement ; 
in quarte, by dropping the point under 
the adversary’s blade and circling up¬ 
ward, throwing off the attack in the 
opposite line, that of tierce; in tierce, 
by the reverse action, throwing it off 
in quarte. 

The parries are termed semi¬ 
counters when, by a half-circular action, the attack is thrown off from a 
high line, into the opposite low (, e.g ., from quarte to seconde), or brought 
upward from alow line into the opposite high (as from septime to tierce). 



Fig. 7. 


Outside Inside 


LOW LINES 

Diagram showing lines of Defense. 


















FENCING. 


273 

As a general parry a circular or deep elliptic movement of the 
point directly in front of the body, from right to left, or left to right 
(the hilt to be maintained at the center), may be adopted. 

Two or more parries are often combined in continuous action, so 
that if the adversary’s blade is missed in one line it may be met in 
another. A simple parry is performed after a counter, or a round 

parry after a simple. 

But systematic combinations 
are only to be learned by con¬ 
stant practice. 

And here it may be ob¬ 
served that all these parries 
which have been indicated and 
described are not of equal im¬ 
portance. Tierce with its counter 
(on the outer circle) and quarte, 
with its counter ( on the inner 
circle), should be principally employed (Figs. 7 and 8). 

In parrying during the action of recovering from the lunge, the 
outer circle is preferred to the inner. 

Practice in Parries .—Engage in quarte, press the instructor’s 
blade lightly—you have the advantage, being protected while he is 
exposed. He therefore disengages, by directing his point under your 
wrist, with the intent on of passing to the opposite side of your blade. 
Before his point is raised, lower your own by the action of the wrist 
and fingers, with the nails up, and in straightening the arm. 

You have parried, half-circle, in the inside line low. He dis¬ 
engages by passing his point over the forte of your blade. Turn your 
nails down, pass the hilt a little to the right, on the same level, and 
catch his blade with the forte of your own ; you have parried seconde 
in the outside line low. 

He disengages by raising his point above your hilt. Raise your 
hand and point, bending the elbow, and catching his blade with the 
forte of your own. 

You have parried tierce in the outside line high. He disengages 
by directing his point past your blade. Turn your nails to the left, 
catching his blade with the forte of your own. You have parried 
quarte on inside line high, the original engagement. 

The Attack .—The thrusts are named, like the parries, quarte, 
tierce, etc. So also are the engagements : when the foils are joined 
18 



Fig, 8 . Thrust in Tierce. 

















































ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


274 

in the inside high, you are engaged in quarte ; on the outside high, 
in tierce ; and these two engagements are almost universally adopted, 
though there is no rule to that effect; the position of quarte, indeed, 
is that into which you naturally fall on coming on guard. 

Suppose you are engaged in quarte, then while your adversary’s 
blade is in a true line it is evident that a very slight movement of his 
hand to the left would turn aside a direct thrust ; or if he were to ex¬ 
tend his arm at the moment of your lunge, you would throw yourself 
upon his point. You therefore seek, by pressing with the forte of 
your sword upon the faible of his, to force it out of the line. 

If he allows you to do this, his breast lies entirely exposed to 
your attack, and a direct thrust will hit it without risk to yourself, his 
point not being directed toward your body ; so that if he should thrust 
simultaneously it must go past you, and he will be the only one 
struck. 

But suppose your adversary obtains the advantage in the en¬ 
gagement, and that his sword commands yours, the direct thrust 
becomes impossible, and you must disengage to get an opening. 

The more completely his inside line is guarded (you are engaged 
in quarte, remember) the more exposed must he be on the outside line. 

Lower your point, then, under his hilt, straighten your arm as 
you shift to the outside line, and lunge like lightning. 

Rapidity is everything in the disengagement; so you must be 
careful not to draw your point 
back, instead merely lowering 
it, and not to make a wide semi¬ 
circle round your opponent’s 
blade. Your foil should slip, as 
it were, from quarte to tierce, 
close to his, acted on by the 
fingers only (Fig. 9). 

Rapid as you are, your ad¬ 
versary is as quick ; his eye is 
fixed on your wrist ; his foil 
touching yours, aids him to divine your intentions and the moment 
you disengage he is ready with his parry in tierce or seconde before 
you lunge. 

In this case you seek your opening by a seconde disengagement, 
and hit him in quarte after all. 

This double disengagement is called the “ one, two,” and is very 



Fig. 9. Time over the Arm. 

















FENCING. 


275 


hard to defeat with two simple consecutive parries ; for the formation 
of the first leaves the breast so much exposed, that it is barely 
possible to form the seconde in time. 

It is therefore met with the counter or round parry. How are 
you to receive this ? By a counter-disengagement, that is, by letting 
your point follow his blade round the circle it describes until the 
position of the first disengagement is resumed, and then lungeing„ 

The opponent seeks to defeat this attack by a combination of 
simple and counter parries, which is to be evaded by a similar combi¬ 
nation of disengagements and counter disengagements, unless arrested 
in their action by a beat, wrench, or pressure upon his blade. 

Binding—In a counter-disengagement your foil follows and 
avoids that of the adversary ; when, on the contrary, your blade 
clings to his as it turns with it, in conjunction with the delivery of 
your thrust, it is termed binding his blade. 

The favorite attack formed on this principle is termed the flan- 
conade, and directions for the conduct of it will best explain the 
principle. 

Draw your wrist sufficiently in toward your body to enable you 
to oppose the forte of your blade to your antagonist’s faible ; then 
suddenly from that position bind your sword over his, and without 
quitting it bring your point in a line with his body, under his arm, and 
immediately lunge, strictly in opposition ; which will here be in 
octave. 

The Opposition mentioned above is that of the one blade against 
the other. If the swords are not in opposition, you cannot presage 
an attack, and are therefore unable to insure against mutual hits. 

The Change of Engagement differs from a disengagement, inas¬ 
much as it is a mere shifting of your foil from one side of your 
adversary’s to the other without straightening the arm; it is an attack 
upon this blade only. 

In the high lines it is performed by a circular movement which 
carries the point of your sword under that of your adversary. In the 
low lines by passing over the forte of his blade into the opposite line. 

When an adversary changes his engagements, follow him, so as to 
prevent his gaining the command of your blade , if he beat, do not 

change engagement, but disengage. 

During a succession of changes of engagement, remain always 
on the qui vive to parry; for the adversary will convert his change 
into a disengagement in a moment, if he catches you napping. 



2 y 6 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


Feints are used to bring an adversary, who seeks an advantage 
by refusing his blade, to an engagement, or to draw him from his 
line of defense. They may be either offers of direct thrusts or dis¬ 
engagements without lunge in g. 

A Beat is a sharp blow on the opponent’s blade with the purpose 
of confusing him, or preparatory to a feint or attack. But a frequent 
extension of the right arm without lungeing is to be avoided. 

Cut-over Point .—The attacks which have been hitherto mentioned 
are directed either below the adversary’s hilt or to one side or the 
other of his blade; there is another in which you seek to reach the 
adversary’s breast by a whip over his weapon ; raising your point ; 
clearing his, extending your arm as your point descends again, and 
lungeing again, and lungeing when it is extended ; these motions, of 
course, being simultaneous, when you have learned to perform them 
accurately. 

Never attempt the cut-over in loose play until you are perfect at 
it, or you will slash your unfortunate opponent over the arms and 
shoulders, instead of striking your point upon his breast ; and a cut 
from a foil is no joke, even through sleeves of -stout leather. 

The Ripost .—More hits are made by it than by any other form 
of attack. Nothing pays better than the constant practice of the 
direct ripost with the instructor, or an opponent acting in that 
capacity. 

Commence carefully, paying great attention to the proper and 
strong formation of the parry. That the attacking blade may be 
thrown out of line, and then, from the position of the parry, without 
lungeing (the adversary’s body being brought within distance by his 
lunge), without any movement but that of the sword-arm, thrust in 
return. 

Then, as you acquire precision, make the ripost more and more 
rapidly until that and the preceding parry become almost one move¬ 
ment to the eye of a bystander. 

Rapidity is a great thing, the formidable element in the ripost; 
give the adversary too large a fraction of a second, and he will have 
recovered ; the opportunity has gone. 

Some men who never attain to any great proficieney in ’the 
higher branches of fencing—who never learn, that is, to fence with 
their heads, carrying out a combination of attacks studied beforehand, 
are, for all that, extremely dangerous opponents from the lightning 
rapidity they have acquired in the ripost, with and without luno- e ino-. 

1 b' 





FENCING. 277 

The ripost is generally delivered with the hand in supination, but 
sometimes, when executed from a parry in which the nails arc turned 
down, as from prime or seconde, there is advantage in keeping the 
hand in pronation. 

But the ripost with the mere extension of the arm is not always 
feasible ; the adversary, feeling his thrust parried very early, may 
recover in time, and yet leave an opening ; then the ripost must be 
accompanied by the lunge. 

These riposts, so deadly from their rapidity, are called direct , but 
if you are quick enough to seize the opening afforded by the adver¬ 
sary’s attack, and find the line of direct return closed, you must make 
your ripost by disengaging, cutting over the point, or passing under 
the hilt, either with or without the lunge. 

The Remise .—When the original attack is yours, and your 
adversary delays the ripost after having parried, especially if the 

parry has been widely formed, 
so as to afford a good opening, 
you may repeat your attack while 
on the lunge, without springing 
up to guard again in the ordinary 
way. This is called the remise ; 
and being made in consequence of 
an error in your opponent’s play, 
and therefore with a more than 
average prospect of success, is to 
be carefully distinguished from 

The Reprise , which is also a redoubling of the attack while on 
the lunge, but made without reference to the opponent’s play. 

To attack originally with the foregone intention of making a 
second thrust (should the first be unsuccessful) while on the lunge, 
whether the attack is met skilfully or the reverse, that is the reprise , 
and it had better be avoided by those who wish to acquire good form 
and steadiness, as it is apt to induce a rough, scrambling, haphazard 
style of fencing. 

There is another sort of reprise , however, which is legitimate 
enough, and that is a sudden repetition of the attack made, not upon 
the lunge, but after recovery to the position of defense. 

Time Thritsts are so called because success depends upon their 
being timed exactly as your adversary is planning or executing an attack 
on you. You trust in forestalling it, instead of turning it with a parry. 



Fig. 10. Time in Octave. 






































278 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


When they are made correctly they are highly scientific move¬ 
ments, requiring great judgment in planning them, and great accuracy 
and precision in their execution. The adversary must either be led 
by a carefully thought-out stratagem to make the attack you wish, or 
else you must be able to discover that which he is intending to make, 
and have sufficient quickness and decision to time him as he com¬ 
mences his feint, or to wait for his lunge, as the occasion may require. 

Time thrusts are made either in opposition (with the swords 
crossing) or out of opposition (with the blades not meeting.) Those 

in opposition are the least exposed to the dan¬ 
ger of an exchange of hits, and of these there 
are two, the time over the arm, and the time in 
octave. 

Time over the arm (Fig. 10), is applicable 
to all thrusts when the lunge is made on the 
outside. Time in octave (Fig. 11), is employed 
when the lunge is directed to the inside of the 
body or under the arm. 

Time thrusts out of opposition are only 
to be employed where the adversary expose 
himself, either by exceeding wildness in attack, drawing back his 
arm to thrust, or lungeing without straightening it. In short, 
they are not to be thought of if your opponent fences in any 
form whatever. Even the legitimate time thrusts, made with the 
swords in opposition, is a thing to be avoided unless you are quite 
sure of what you are about, for if you make the slightest mistake, a 
mutual hit is hardly to be avoided. 

Fencers who practice without an instructor, should make it a rule 
to go through a lungeing lesson before they commence; first one putting 
on the plastron and acting as instructor, and then the other. A simple 
exercise will suffice if the men have but once learned, say this : 

On guard, engage in quarte ; disengage, lunge, recover in tierce. 

Engage in tierce ; disengage, lunge, recover in quarte. 

Engage in quarte ; mark one, two, lunge, recover. 

Same from engagement in tierce. Engage in quarte ; disengage, 
the instructor parrying with counter, follow him round, lunge. 

Same from tierce, lunge. 

Round quarte ; round tierce, lunge. 

Instructor disengages ; parry simple, lunge. 

Instructor disengages ; parry counter, lunge. 



Fig. 11. Resting Point on 
the Lunge Point Toward 
Shoulder. 

























FENCING. 


279 


Engage in quarte ; beat and lunge. 

The same ; beat, one two, and lunge. 

Same in tierce. 

In the exercises the pupil must touch the plastron when he lunges, 
The instructor, when he disengages, need not lunge ; it will be suffi¬ 
cient for him to point his foil toward the other’s breast, to show the 
attack. To fill his part usefully, he must pay great attention to the 
other’s form and him, if he fails to straighten his arm properly before 
lungeing, if he bends forward, overdunges, leans on the plastron, or 
is slow in recovery, or neglects to lower his left arm. The pupil, in 
lu ngeing at the plastron, is to relax the grasp of his fingers, and raise 
his hand as high as the face as his point touches. 

If you cannot get any one to take the part of instructor, lunge 
at the wall, paying strict attention to the position of your arm, body 
and legs, for a little time before commencing loose play. 

For a couple of ordinary amateurs to attempt to practice the 
more intricate exercises together would, however, be of such doubtful 
advantage, that we do not think it advisable to ffive them here. But 
there is another way in which steadiness and a correct position may 
be maintained, and that is by two fencers keeping up the old-fashioned 
custom of thrusting in quarte and tierce before they commence loose 
play. 

The exercise, which is a very showy one, is thus performed : The 
fencers fully accoutred, with the exception of their masks, which are 
laid on the ground by their sides, face one another in an upright posi¬ 
tion, with their left hands hanging, easily, the palm upon the thigh, the 
points of their foils presented toward each other. Then bringing 
their weapons to their left sides, and raising both hands above their 
heads, as shown in our remarks on position, they come in guard, 
crossing swords in the engagement of quarte, beat twice with their 
right feet, and expose their breasts, with their hands in tierce. Then 
one proves distance by lungeing in quarte, reaching, but not actually 
hitting, the other. Next, both rise to the upright position by bringing 
the right heel to the left instep, and salute the spectators by turning 
the sword-hand to quarte, to tierce, with corresponding movements of 
the head and eye, and then saluting one another in a similar way, they 
brino- the foil to the left side, and come on guard as before, repeating 
the movements of raising both hands above the head, etc. 

The one who has proved distance now disengages into the out¬ 
side line high, nails up, maintains the opposition of the blade, and 


2 8o 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


directly the disengagement is fully developed, and the other’s parry 
felt, slackens his hold upon the grip, and, by reversing his fingers, 
turns the point toward himself, the pommel toward his adversary. In 
this position he rests a little on the lunge. 

Meantime, the other parries tierce on the disengagement, and t 
presents his position with their left hands point as in return of seconde 
but without touching. The fencer, on the attack, recovers in tierce. 

disengages in quarte, again re¬ 
versing the point, in this instance 
toward his right shoulder, the 
pommel toward his adversary, the 
eye glancing over the arm (Fig. 
12.) 

The defender parries quarte, 
and presents his point as in the 
return of septime (a half-circle), but 
without touching. 

After repeating these lunges a few times, the fencer on the attack 
pauses in quarte, beats twice with his foot, and offering his breast, by 
turning his hand and blade aside in tierce, affords the other the oppor¬ 
tunity of lungeing, in his turn, to prove his distance. Both rise to 
the upright position, salute tp right, to left, to each other, as before, 
and fall on guard. He who first attacked now parries, and vice vei'sa. 

Upon the termination of the thrusting, the double beat with the 
foot, and the one , two , both regain the upright position, and then move 
the left foot one step backward, falling on guard ; beat twice with the 
right foot ; bring the left foot up to the right, again assuming the 
upright position, salute in quarte and tierce, fall on guard, the right 
foot in advance of the left, beat twice again, bring the left foot up to 
the right, reassuming the upright position, and at the same time salute 
each other by bringing the hilt up to the mouth, and lowering the 
sword slowly. 

After a few thrusts, on both sides, from the engagement of quarte, 
and upon which the counter of quarte should always be taken, the 
players should change their engagement to that of tierce, when, upon 
the disengagement and lunge, the counter of tierce becomes the nec¬ 
essary parry. 

Some men are put off their play when they find themselves 
engaged with a left-handed fencer, but there is no real reason why 
they should be. All you have to do, is to watch the hilt, feel the 




FENCING. 


281 


blade, and attack where you see an opening. Keep cool, and you will 
find that the parries required are precisely the same as on ordinary 
occasions. 

H ave nothing to do with the charlatanry of the art, such as seek¬ 
ing to disarm your opponent, the volt or springing aside, etc., etc. 
Nothing pays like steady fencing, and the acquisition of the utmost 
rapidity. 

When mutual hits occur, the hit is reckoned in favor of the fencer 
making the attack, provided the attack does not occupy an unreas¬ 
onable time in its delivery. When mutual hits occur between the remise 
and the ripost, the hit is reckoned in favor of the fencer making the repost. 

The faults which fencers have to guard principally against in 
loose plays are—closing upon each other, over-lungeing, pressing on 
the lunge, repeating the attack without regarding the opponent’s 
ripost, and drawing back the arm to deliver the thrust. 

We will conclude with a few general rules, which will pay right 
well for careful attention. 

Engage out of the immediate reach of your adversary, and 
always cross his foil, if possible, in quarte or tierce : but your guard 
must be relative in height to his. 

If your adversary will not cross blades, threaten him with the point, 
but do not lunge under such circumstances, that is, out of opposition, 
unless you have a very decided advantage over him in reach. 

If he raise his point, beat sharply, and lunge. If you are taller, 
attack; if the shorter, trust chiefly to the ripost. 

.Do not be disconcerted when you find your foil jarred, and 
crossed in contraction, from your opponent having parried in an 
irregular fashion. 

With a little practice you will see how to avoid his blade, and 
profit by the irregularity. 

Whip along the blade in tierce, or wrench over it from the 
engagement of quarte when the adversary engages with a straightened 
arm, or attempts to arrest the attack by extending it. 

Disengage into the opposite line when the adversary attempts to 

t 

beat. 

Yield the wrist and blade to his action, without quitting his 
weapon, when he attacks by encircling the blade, for by yielding the 
wrist the foil is brought round to the original engagement. 


282 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


Beat or wrench before riposting, when the adversary rests up on 
his lunge. 

Regain the position of defense immediately after the lunge, 
whether successful or not. 

Feign the semblance of disengagement, in order to observe your 
adversary’s usual manner of parrying, so as to plan an attack upon 
him. 

If he tries that upon you, adopt some particular parry in order to 
draw an attack founded upon it, which you will then be prepared to 
meet and turn to advantage. 

All disengagements made under the wrist are more dangerous 
than those made close along the blade. It is easier to cut over the 
point when the adversary’s guard is low and his point high, and your 
forte therefore near his faible. And it is easier to hit with a dis- 
engagement when your point is near his forte. 

Watch good fencers whenever you have a chance. 


ETIQUETTE. 


The choice of acquaintances is very important to the happiness 
of a mistress and her family. A gossiping acquaintance, who in¬ 
dulges in scandal and the ridicule of her neighbors, should be avoided 
as a pestilence. It is likewise necessary to beware as Thomson 
sings— 

u The whisper’d tale, 

That, like the fabling Nile, no fountain knows:— 

Fair-faced Deceit, whose wily, conscious eye 
Ne’er looks direct; the tongue that licks the dust 
But, when it safely dares, is prompt to sting.” 

If the duties of a family do not sufficiently occupy the time of a 
mistress, it is well for her to go into society and receive visitors. One 
is apt to become narrow-minded by living too much in the home-circle; 
also, as in many cases, the mistress will have to take her daughters 
into society, it is well not to get out of the way of meeting fresh 
people. With children, it is better also that they should meet other 
young people when opportunity admits of their doing so. 

Friendships should not be hastily formed, or the heart given, at 
once, to every new-comer. There are ladies who uniformly smile on, 
and approve everything and everybody, and who possess neither the 
courage to reprimand vice, nor the generous warmth to defend virtue. 
The friendship of such persons is without attachment, and their love 
without affection or even preference. They imagine that every one 
who has any penetration is ill-natured, and look coldly on a dis¬ 
criminating judgment It should be remembered, however, that this 
discernment does not always proceed from an uncharitable temper ; but 
that those who possess a long experience and thorough knowledge of 

the world scrutinize the conduct and dispositions of people before they 

283 



284 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


trust themselves to the first fair appearances. Addison, who was not 
deficient in a knowledge of mankind, observes that—“A friendship, 
which makes the least noise, is very often the most useful ; for which 
reason, I should prefer a prudent friend to a zealous one!” And 
Joanna Baillie tells us that— 

“ Friendship is no plant of hasty growth , 

Though planted in esteem’s deep-fixed soil, 

The gradual culture of kind intercourse 
Must bring it to perfection.” 

Hospitality is a most excellent virtue, but care must be taken that 
the love of company, for its own sake, does not become a prevailing 
passion ; for then the habit is no longer hospitality, but dissipation. 
Reality and truthfulness in this, as in all Other duties of life, are the 
points to be studied. For, as Washington Irving well says—“There 
is an emanation from the heart in genuine hospitality which cannot be 
described, but is immediately felt, and puts the stranger at once at his 
ease.” With respect to the continuance of acquaintanceships, how¬ 
ever, it may be found necessary, in some cases, for a mistress to relin¬ 
quish, on assuming the responsibility of a household, many of those 
commenced in the earlier part of her life. This will be the more 
requisite if the number still retained be quite equal to her means and 
opportunities. 

In conversation, trifling occurrences, such as small disap¬ 
pointments, petty annoyances, and other everyday incidents, should 
never be mentioned to friends. A bad habit that very many people 
get into is to tattle of their servants and children incessantly, not 
realizing that to many of their listeners they are most wearisome 
subjects, while to most they are very uninteresting ones. The extreme 
injudiciousness of repeating these will be at once apparent when we 
reflect on the unsatisfactory discussions they too frequently occasion, 
and on the load of advice which may, thereupon, be tendered, and 
which is too often, of a kind neither useful nor agreeable. Greater 
events, whether of joy or sorrow, should be communicated to friends; 
and, on such occasions, their sympathy gratifies and comforts. If the 
mistress be a wife, never let a word, in connection with her husband’s 
failings, pass her lips ; and in cultivating the power of conversation, 
she should keep the versified counsel of Cowper continually in her 
memory,—that it 

“ Should flow like water after summer showers, 

Not as if raised by mere mechanic powers.” 



ETIQUETTE. 


28 5 


The secret of our conversation being entertainment or the reverse, 
consists mainly in our powers of suiting it to that of those with whom 
we are speaking. To some it is necessary to say very little at all, for 
they much prefer to talk themselves, and it is then the duty of the 
hostess to listen as sympathizingly or as interestedly as she can. 
Other people are shy, and then a good deal of tact is required to find 
out what would be pleasant subjects for them, for there are sure to be 
some upon which they can speak, and it is well for the mistress of 
a household to learn as much as she can of the leading topics of 
the day. 

Visiting. —After luncheon, morning calls and visits may be made 
and received. These may be divided under three h£ads : Those of 
ceremony, friendship, and congratulation or condolence. Visits of 
ceremony or courtesy, which occasionally merge into those of 
friendship, are to be paid under various circumstances. Thus, they 
are uniformly required after dining at a friend’s house, or after a ball, 
picnic, or any other party. These visits should be short, a stay of 
from fifteen to twenty minutes being quite sufficient. 

When other visitors are announced, it is well to retire as soon 
as possible, taking care to let it appear that their arrival is not the 
cause. When they are quietly seated, and the bustle of their entrance 
is over, rise from your chair, take a kind leave of the hostess, 
bowing politely to the guests. Should you call at an inconvenient 
time, not having ascertained the luncheon hour, or from any other 
inadvertence, retire as soon as possible, without, however, showing 
that you feel yourself an intruder. It is not difficult for any well-bred 
or even good-tempered person to know what to say on such an 
occasion, and, on politely withdrawing, a promise can be made to call 
again, if the lady you have called on appears really disappointed. 

Visits of friendship need not be so ceremonious as those of cere¬ 
mony. It is, however, requisite to call at suitable times, and to avoid 
staying too long if your friend is engaged. The courtesies of society 
should ever be maintained, even in the domestic circle, and amongst 
the nearest friends. During these visits the manners should be easy 
and cheerful, and the subjects of conversation such as may be readily 
terminated. Serious discussions or arguments are to be altogether 
avoided, and there is much danger and impropriety in expressing 
opinions of those persons and characters with whom, perhaps, there is 
but a slight acquaintance. 

It is not advisable at any time to take favorite dogs into another 



286 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


lady’s drawing-room, for many persons have an absolute dislike to such 
animals ; and besides this, there is always a chance of a breakage of 
some article occurring, through their leaping and bounding here and 
there, sometimes very much to the fear and annoyance of the hostess. 

Receiving Morning Calls. —The foregoing description of the 
etiquette to be observed in paying them will be of considerable ser¬ 
vice. It is to be added, however, that the occupations of drawing, 
music, or reading should be suspended on the entrance of morning 
visitors. If a lady, however, be engaged with light needlework—and 
none other is appropriate in the drawing-room—it may not be, under 
some circumstances, inconsistent with good breeding to quietly con¬ 
tinue it during conversation, particularly if the visit be protracted. 

Formerly the custom was to accompany all visitors quitting the 
house to the door of the house, and there take leave of them ; but 
modern society, which has thrown off a great deal of this kind of cer¬ 
emony, now merely requires that the lady of the house should rise 
from her seat, shake hands, or bow, according to the intimacy she 
has with her guests, and ring the bell to summon the servant to 
open the door. In making a first call, either upon a newly married 
couple or persons newly arrived in the neighborhood, a lady should 
leave her husband’s card, together with her own, at the same time 
stating that the profession or business in which he is engaged has 
prevented him from having the pleasure of paying the visit with her. 
It is a custom with many ladies, when on the eve of an absence from 
their neighborhood, to leave or send their own and husband’s cards, 
with the letters P. P. C. in the right hand corner. These letters are 
the initials of the French words Pour prendre conge , meaning “To 
take leave,” or P. D. A., Pour dire adieu , “To say good-bye.’’ 

The fashion of visiting cards varies much. They are made ex¬ 
tremely thin, and highly glazed ; but by some enameled cards are pre¬ 
ferred to plain. Where a lady, however, pays her visits in a carriage, 
the children can be taken, remaining in it when the lady enters her 
friend’s house. 

With respect to morning calls, it has become very general with 
the mistress of the house to set aside one day in every week, fortnight, 
or month, as the case may be, on which she is at home to receive 
callers. Whenever this is known to be the case, the visitors should 
make it a rule to go on no other day. It is hardly necessary to add 
that any lady who has made such an arrangement must always be pre¬ 
pared for her guests on such days. If any circumstance obliges her 




ETIQUETTE. 


287 


to be from home on such a clay, she must carefully inform all her 
acquaintances of the matter in good time, that they may be spared 
making a fruitless journey. 

It is usual, when this is the case, and such cards have been issued, 

as, for example, “ Mrs. A-At home on Wednesdays from 4 to 7,” 

that afternoon tea should be provided by the hostess, fresh supplies 
of it, with its accompanying thin bread and butter, cakes, etc., being 
forthcoming as fresh guests arrive. 

Morning calls demand good but neat attire ; for a costume very 
different from that you generally wear, or anything approaching an 
evening dress, will be very much out of place. As a general rule it 
may be said, both in reference to this and all other occasions, it is 
better to be underdressed than overdressed. 

A strict account should be kept of ceremonial visits, and notice 
be taken how soon your visits have been returned. An opinion may 
thus be formed as to whether your frequent visits are, or are not, de¬ 
sirable. There are, naturally, instances when the circumstances of 
old age or ill health will preclude any return of a call; but when this 
is the case, it must not interrupt the discharge of the duty by those 
who have not such excuses to make. 

Visits of Condolence should be paid within a week after the 
event which occasions them. If the acquaintance, however, is but 
slight, then immediately after the family has appeared in public. A 
lady should send in her card, and, if her friends be able to receive her, 
the visitor’s manner and conversation should be subdued, and in har¬ 
mony with the character of her visit. Visitors paying visits of con¬ 
dolence should be dressed either in black silk or plain colored 
apparel. Sympathy with the affliction of the family is thus expressed, 
and these attentions are, in such cases, pleasing and soothing. 

In all visits, if your acquaintance or friend be not at home, a 
card should be left. If in a carriage, the servant will answer your 
inquiry, and receive your card ; if paying your visits on foot, give your 
card to the servant in the hall, but leave to go in and rest should on 
no account be asked. The form of words, “ Not at home,” may be 
understood in different senses ; but the only courteous way is to receive 
them as being perfectly true. You may imagine that the lady of the 
house is really at home, and that she would make an exception in 
your favor, or you may think your acquaintance is not desired ; but in 
either case, not the slightest word is to escape you which would sug¬ 
gest, on your part, such an impression. 



288 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


Invitation for Dinner.— In giving these it is usual to give about 
three weeks’ notice, and formal ones are sent on printed cards, such 
as the following— 

575 Fifth Ave.. 

New York. 




request the pleasure of 


company at dinner. 

on ... the .. at . o clock. 

R. S. V. P., or an answer will oblige, is sometimes added, but 
with a dinner invitation it ought to be unnecessary 

In accepting an invitation the form of words is— 

. have much pleasure in accepting .. . kind 

invitation for . 

while in declining one it is usual to say— 

. regret that they are unavoidably prevented \or that 

a previous engagement prevents them] from accepting . 

kind invitation for . 

The Half-hour before Dinner has always been considered as the 
great ordeal through which the mistress, in giving a dinner party, will 
either pass with flying colors, or may lose many of her laurels. The 
anxiety to receive her guests, her hope that all will be present in due 
time, her trust in the skill of her cook, and the attention of the other 
domestics—all tend to make those few minutes a trying time. The 
mistress, however, must display no kind of agitation, but show her 
tact in suggesting light and cheerful subjects of conversation, which 
will be much aided by the introduction of any particularly new book, 
curiosity of art, or article of Vertu, which may pleasantly engage the 
attention of the company. Photograph albums, crest albums, new 


















ETIQUETTE. 


289 

music, will aid to pass a few moments pleasantly. “ Waiting for 
dinner,” however, is a trying time, and there are few who have not 
felt— 

“ How sad it is to sit and pine, 

The long half-hour before we dine! 

Upon our watches oft to look, 

Then wonder at the clock and cook, 

0 0 % 

And strive to laugh in spite of Fate 
But laughter forced soon quits the room, 

And leaves it in its former gloom. 

But lo ! the dinner now appears— 

The object of our hopes and fears, 

The end of all our pain!” 

In giving an entertainment of this kind, the mistress should 
remember that it is her duty to make her guests feel happy, com¬ 
fortable, and quite at ease ; and the guests should also consider that 
they have come to the house of their hostess to be happy. Thus an 
opportunity is given to all for innocent enjoyment and intellectual im¬ 
provement, when also acquaintances may be formed that may prove 
invaluable through life, and information gained that will enlarge the 
mind. Many celebrated men and women have been great talkers ; and, 
among others, the genial Walter Scott, who spoke freely to everyone, 
and a favorite remark of whom it was, that he never did so without 
learning something that he didn’t know. 

Going to Dinner. —Dinner having been announced, the host 
offers his arm to, and places on his right hand at the dinner table, the 
lady to whom he desires to pay the most respect, either on account of 
her age, position, or from her being the greatest stranger in the party. 
If this lady is married and her husband present, the latter takes the 
hostess—who always enters the dining-room last—to her place at table, 
and seats himself at her right hand. The rest of the company follow 
the host in couples, as specified by the master or mistress of the 
house, the whole party being arrranged according to their rank, and 
other circumstances which may be known to the host and hostess. 

It will be found of great assistance to the placing of a party at 
the dinner-table, to have the names of the guests neatly (and correctly) 
written on small cards, and placed at that part of the table where it is 
desired they should sit. It is a matter of taste what cards should be 
used for this purpose ; small plain ones are perfectly admissible, but 
those with gold, silver or colored borders are more effective and show 
19 



290 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


more distinctly, laid as they are upon either white tablecloths or 
serviettes. Some with floral ornamentations are sometimes used, but 
are, as a rule, rather out of harmony with the real flowers with which 
the dinner-table is so invariably decorated. Sometimes the menu 
card is a double one, which folds like a ball programme, and upon the 
outside of this the guest’s name is written. With respect to the 
number of guests, it has often been said, that a private dinner party 
should consist of not less than the number of the Graces, or more 
than that of the Muses. A party of ten or twelve is, perhaps, in a 
general way, sufficient to enjoy themselves and be enjoyed. Gloves 
are worn by ladies at dinner parties, but should be taken off before 
the business of dining commences. 

Leaving the Dinner Table. —When fruit has been taken, and a 
glass or two of wine passed around, the time will have arrived when the 
hostess will rise, and thus give the signal for the ladies to leave the 
gentlemen, and retire to the drawing room. The gentlemen of the 
party will rise at the same time, and he who is nearest the door will 
open it for the ladies, all remaining courteously standing until the last 
lady has withdrawn. Dr. Johnson has a curious paragraph on the 
effects of a dinner on men. “Before dinner,” he says, “men meet 
with great inequality of understanding; and those who are conscious 
of their inferiority have the modesty not to talk. When they have 
drunk wine, every man feels himself happy, and loses that modesty, 
and grows impudent and vociferous ; but he is not improved, he is 
only not sensible of his defects.” This is rather severe, but there may 
be truth in it. 

In former times, when the bottle circulated freely amongst the 
guests, it was necessary for the ladies to retire earlier than they do at 
present, for the gentlemen of the company soon became unfit to con¬ 
duct themselves with that decorum which is essential to decent society. 
Thanks, however, to the improvements in modern society, and the 
high example shown to the nation by the most illustrious personages, 
temperance is, in these happy days, a necessary feature in the char¬ 
acter of a gentleman, and thus the very early withdrawal of the 
ladies from the dining room is to be deprecated. A lull in the con¬ 
versation will seasonably indicate the moment for the ladies’ departure. 

After-dinner Invitations may be given, by which we wish to be 
understood, invitations for the evening. The time of arrival of these 
visitors will vary according to their engagements, or sometimes will 
be varied in obedience to the caprices of fashion. Guests invited for 



ETIQUETTE. 


291 


the evening are, however, generally considered at liberty to arrive 
whenever it will best suit themselves—usually between nine and 
twelve, unless earlier hours are specifically named. By this arrange¬ 
ment, many fashionable people and others who have numerous 
engagements to fill, can contrive to make their appearance at two or 
three parties in the course of one evening. 

BALL OR EVENING PARTY. 

The etiquette of the dinner-party table being disposed of, let us 
now enter slightly into that of an evening party or ball. The invitations 
issued and accepted for either of these will be written in the same style 
as those already described for a dinner-party. They should be sent 
out about three weeks before the day fixed for the event, and should 
be replied to within a week of their receipt. By attending to these 
courtesies, the guests will have time to consider their engagements, 
and prepare their dresses, and the hostess will also know what will be 
the number of her party. 

If the entertainment is to be simply an evening party, this must 
be specified on the card or note of invitation. Short or verbal invi¬ 
tations, except where persons are exceedingly intimate, or are very 
near relations, are very far from proper, although, of course, in this 
respect and many other respects, very much always depends on the 
manner in which the invitation is given. True politeness, however, 
should be studied, even amongst the nearest friends and relatives, for 
the mechanical forms of good breeding are of great consequence, and 
too much familiarity may have for its result the destruction of friend¬ 
ship. 

Arrival of Guests. —Visitors, on arrival, should be shown to a 
room exclusively provided for their reception ; and in that set apart 
for the ladies, attendants should be in waiting to assist in uncloaking, 
and helping to arrange the hair and toilet of those who require it. It 
will be found convenient, in those cases where the number of guests 
is large, to provide numbered tickets, so that they can be attached to 
the cloaks and shawls of each lady ; a duplicate of which should be 
handed to the guest. Tea and coffee are provided in an ante-room, for 
those who would like to partake. 

As the visitors are announced by the servant, it is not necessary 
for the lady of the house to advance each time toward the door, but 
merely to rise from her seat to receive their courtesies and congratu- 



292 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


lations. If, indeed, the hostess wishes to show particular favor to 
some peculiarly honored guests, she may introduce them to others, 
where she may imagine mutual acquaintance will be specially suitable 
and agreeable. It is very often the practice of the master of the house 
to introduce one gentleman to another, but occasionally the lady per¬ 
forms this office ; when it will, of course, be polite for the persons thus 
introduced to take their seats together for the time being. 

The custom of non-introduction is very much in vogue in many 
houses, and guests are thus left to discover for themselves the posi¬ 
tion and qualities of the people around them. The servant, indeed, 
calls out the names of all the visitors as they arrive, but, in many 
instances, mispronounces them ; so that it will not be well to follow 
this information, as if it were an unerring guide. In our opinion, it is 
a cheerless and depressing custom. 

Refreshments. —A separate room or buffet should be appropriated 
for refreshments, and to which the dancers may retire. With greater 
wealth have also come greater profusion and costlier wines than 
formerly. A supper is also mostly provided at the private parties of 
the middle classes ; and this requires, on the part of the hostess, a 
great deal of attention and supervision. It usually takes place between 
the first and second parts of the programme of the dances, of which 
there should be one given to each guest. Programmes of the dances 
are printed in various forms, and have pencils attached. The mono¬ 
gram of the hostess, or the name of the house, with the date of the 
party, generally heads these programmes. 

In private parties, a lady is not to refuse the invitation of a gen¬ 
tleman to dance, unless she be previously engaged. The hostess must 
be supposed to have asked to her house only those persons whom she 
knows to be perfectly respectable and of unblemished character, as 
well as pretty equal in position ; and thus, to decline the offer of any 
gentleman present would be a tacit reflection on the master and mis¬ 
tress of the house. It maybe mentioned here, more especially for the 
young who will read this book, that introductions at balls or evening- 
parties, do not necessarily involve a subsequent acquaintanceship, no 
introduction, at these times, giving a gentleman a right to address, 
afterward, a lady. She is, consequently, free next morning to pass 
her partner at a ball of the previous evening without the slightest 
recognition. 

Departure. —When any of the carriages of the guests are 
announced, or the time for their departure arrives, they should make 





ETIQUETTE. 


2 93 


a slight intimation to the hostess, without, however, exciting any ob¬ 
servation that they are about to depart. If this cannot be done, how¬ 
ever, without creating too much bustle, it will be better for the visitors 
to retire quietly, without taking their leave. During the course of 
the week, the hostess will expect to receive from every guest a call, 
where it is possible, or cards expressing the gratification experienced 
from her entertainment. This attention is due to every lady for the 
pains and trouble she has been at, and tends to promote social, kindly 
feelings. 

Having thus discoursed of parties of pleasure, it will be an inter¬ 
esting change to return to the more domestic business of the house, 
although all the details we have been giving of dinner.parties, balls, 
and the like, appertain to the department of the mistress. Without a 
knowledge of the etiquette to be observed on these occasions, a mis¬ 
tress would be unable to enjoy and appreciate those friendly, pleasant 
meetings which give, as it were, a fillip to life, and make the quiet, 
happy home of a gentlewoman appear the more delightful and enjoy¬ 
able. In their proper places, all that is necessary to be known respect¬ 
ing the dishes and appearance of the breakfast, dinner, tea, and sup¬ 
per tables, will be set forth in this work. 

Letters of Introduction. —You may, perhaps, have been favored 
with letters of introduction from some of your friends, to persons 
livi ng in the neighborhood to which you have just come. In this case, 
inclose the letter of introduction in an envelope, with your card. Then, 
if the person to whom it is addressed calls, in the course of a few days, 
the visit should be returned by you within the week, if possible. Any 
breach of etiquette in this respect, will not readily be excused. It is 
now more usual to write by the post and introduce a friend, instead 
of leaving everything to be said by the letter that is given. 

In the event of your being invited to dinner under the above cir¬ 
cumstances, nothing but necessity should prevent you from accepting 
the invitation. If, however, there is ^ome distinct reason why you 
cannot accept, let it be stated frankly and plainly. An opportunity 
should, also, be taken to call in the course of a day or two, in order 
to politely express your regret and disappointment at not having been 
able to avail yourself of the kindness. 

In o-ivino- a letter of introduction, it should always be handed 
to your friend unsealed. Courtesy dictates this, as the person whom 
you are introducing would, perhaps, wish to know in what manner he 
or she was spoken of. Should you receive a letter from a friend, 



294 ART, society and accomplishments. 

introducing to you any person known to and esteemed by the writer, 
the letter should be immediately acknowledged, and your willingness 
expressed to do all in your power to carry out his or her wishes. 

Evenings at Home. — Of the manner of passing evenings at home, 
there is none pleasanter than in such recreative enjoyments as those 
which relax the mind from its severer duties, whilst they stimulate it 
with a gentle delight. Where there are young people forming a part 
of the evening circle, interesting and agreeable pastime should 
especially be promoted. It is of incalculable benefit to them that their 
homes should possess all the attractions of healthful amusement, com¬ 
fort and happiness; for if they do not find pleasure there, they will 
seek it elsewhere. It ought, therefore, to enter into the domestic 
policy of every parent to make her children feel that home is the 
happiest place in the world. To imbue them with the delicious home¬ 
feeling is one of the choicest gifts a parent can bestow. Musical 
evenings make additional attractions for home, and increase its 
pleasures. Where music is cultivated by the mistress of a house or 
by the daughters, husbands and brothers are generally found “at 
home” in the evenings. 

Light or fancy needlework often forms a portion of the evening’s 
recreation for the ladies of the household, and this may be varied by 
an occasional Q^ame. It has often been remarked, too, that nothino- 

o 7 7 

is pleasauter to the feminine members of a family than the reading 
aloud of some good standard work or amusing publication. A 
knowledge of polite literature may be thus obtained by the whole 
family, especially if the reader is able and willing to explain the more 
difficult passages of the book, and expatiate on the wisdom and 
beauties it may contain. This plan, in a great measure, realizes the 
advice of Lord Bacon, who says, “Read not to contradict and refute, 
nor to believe and take for granted, nor to fine talk and discourse, but 
to weioffi and consider.” 

D 


WEDDING BREAKFASTS. 

The orthodox wedding breakfast seems likely to become a thing 
of the past, so much has it been superseded by the wedding tea that 
now takes its place at afternoon weddings, menus for which are given 
in the chapter above teas. 

Still there are many who prefer the old-fashioned breakfast which, 
like the dejeuner of the French people, comes at the time of day when 
people can enjoy a meal. 






ETIQUETTE. 


295 


Those who take nothing in the middle of the day are, as a 
rule, those whose business or professional occupation gives them no 
time to appreciate it, but even these when taking the day’s holiday 
that a wedding enforces, are found to enjoy the substantial meal 
that old-fashioned tastes dictate, the old-fashioned appetites approve. 

Wedding Breakfast Viands. —Except in name, there is but 
little affinity between the above and ordinary breakfast, as those eat¬ 
ables and drinkables specially associated with the latter, never find a 
place at the old-fashioned wedding breakfast, which has more the 
character of a cold luncheon. The table is laid precisely in the same 
manner as a luncheon table, for it is rarely that this meal is served a 
la Russe, and there are, as a rule, no hot dishes. 

Wines. —These depend greatly upon the menu and the means of 
the donor of the feast. Champagne is the wine most generally drank, 
but all light wines are admissible ; and whatever wines are to be 
served, glasses to correspond must be placed on the table, colored 
ones being avoided. 

Decorations for a wedding breakfast are prettiest and most appro¬ 
priate when arranged entirely with white flowers and foliage ; 
and according to the season, so may these flowers be chosen. If the 
table be a long one, high stands of white flowers and ferns are best, 
as they can be seen over the dishes ; but on a small table, small vases 
of crystal are suitable. Unless the meal is served as a dinner, 
strewing the cloth is better avoided, as the flowers and leaves will 
so soon be disarranged, but a low vase with a few blossoms and a little 
maiden-hair fern to each person, looks well. In many cases the cake 
has a decoration of real flowers, instead of the sugar temples or 
baskets, upon the top. We have seen this effectively done by having 
a round of white cardboard cut the exact size of the top of the cake, 
upon which was laid a very handsome -wreath of white flowers. In 
the center stood a small white china vase, and when the breakfast took 
place, the bride’s bouquet was placed in this, the result being a 
pyramid of white flowers, than which any prettier decoration cannot 
well be imagined. When the cake was to be cut, the cardboard top 
was lifted off, thus removing all impediments. 

The bride’s duty is supposed to be to cut the first slice of cake 
which is partaken of after the actual meal is finished. The cake 
is generally cut with a saw provided for that purpose, and this being 
rather a hard task, the iceing being somewhat difficult to cut through, 
it is generally considered sufficient if she make the first incision. 



296 ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 

HOW TO GIVE A DINNER PARTY. 

GENERAL OBSERVATIONS ON DINNERS AND DINING. 

Man, it has been said, is a dining animal. Creatures of the 
inferior races eat and drink ; only man dines. It has also been said 
that he is the cooking animal; but some races eat food without 
cooking it. A Groat captain said to M. Brillat Savarin, “ When, in 
campaign, we feel hungry, we knock over the first animal we find, cut 
off a steak, powder it with salt, put it under the saddle, gallop over it 
for half a mile, and then eat it. v Huntsmen in Dauphiny, when out 
shooting, have been known to kill a bird, pluck it, salt and pepper it, 
and cook it by carrying it some time in their caps. It is equally true 
that some races of men do not dine any more than the tiger or the 
vulture. It is not a dinner at which sits the aboriginal Australian, 
who gnaws his bone half bare, and then dings it behind to his 
squaw. And the native of Terra del Fuego does not dine when he 
gets his morsel of red clay. Dining is the privilege of civilization. 
The rank which a people occupy in the grand scale may be measured 
by their way of taking their meals, as well as by their way of treating 
their women. The nation which knows how to dine has learned the 
leading lesson of progress. Itdmplies both the will and the skill to 
reduce to order, and surround with idealisms and graces the more 
material conditions of human existence ; and wherever that will and 
that skill exist, life cannot be wholly ignoble. 

Dinner being the grand solid meal of the day, is a matter of con¬ 
siderable importance; and a well-served table is a striking index of 
human ingenuity and resource. “ Their table,” says Lord Byron, in 
describing a dinner-party given by Lord and Lady Amundeville at 
Norman Abbey— 

“Their table was a board to tempt even ghosts 
To pass the Styx for more substantial feasts, 

I will not dwell upon ragouts or roasts, 

Albeit all human history attests 
That happiness for man—the hungry sinner!— 

Since Eve ate apples, much depends on dinner.” 

* 

And then he goes on to observe upon the curious complexity of the 
result produced by human cleverness and application catering for the 
modifications which-occur in civilized life, one of the simplest of the 
primal instincts : 


ETIQUETTE. 


2 9 7 


“ The mind is lost in mignty contemplation 
Of intellect expended on two courses ; 

And indigestion’s grand multiplication 
Requires arithmetic beyond my forces. 

Who would suppose, from Adam’s simple ration, 

That cookery would have call’d forth such resources 
As form a science and a nomenclature 
From out the commonest demands of nature?” 

And we may well say, Who, indeed, would suppose it! The gulf 
between the Groat, with a steak under his saddle, and Alex Soyer 
getting up a great dinner at the Reform Club, or even Thackeray’s 
Mrs. Raymond Gray giving “a little dinner” to Mr. Snob (with one 
of those famous “ roly-poly puddings ” of hers)—what a gulf it is ! 

That Adam’s “ ration,” however, was “ simple,” is a matter on 
which we have contrary judgments given by the poets. When the 
angel Raphael paid that memorable visit to Paradise—which we are 
expressly told by Milton he did exactly at dinner-time—Eve seems to 
have prepared “a little” wholly destitute of complexity, and to have 
added ice-creams and perfumes. Nothing can be clearer than the 
testimony of the poets on these points: 

“ And Eve within, due at her home prepared 
For dinner savory fruits, of taste to please 
True appetite, and not disrelish thirst 
Of nectarous draughts between .... 

. . . With dispatchful looks in haste 

She turns, on hospitable thoughts intent. 

What choice to choose for delicacy best, 

What order so contrived as not to mix 
Tastes not well join’d, inelegant, but bring 
Taste after taste, upheld with kindliest change— 

* * * * * 

She tempers dulcet creams . 

. then strews the ground 

With rose and odors." 

It may be observed in passing, that the poets, though they have more 
to say about wine than solid food, because the former more directly 
stimulates the intellect and the feelings, do not flinch from the subject 
of eating and drinking. There is infinite zest in the above passage 
from Milton, and even more in the famous description of a dainty 
supper, given by Keats in his “ Eve of Saint Agnes. 7 ’ Could Oueen 
Mab herself desire to sit down to anything nicer, both as to its 




ART SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


298 

appointment and serving, and as to its quality, than the collection 
served by Porphyro in the lady’s bedroom while she slept? 

“There by the bedside, where the faded moon 
Made a dim silver twilight, soft he set 
A table, and half anguish’d, threw thereon 
A cloth of woven crimson, gold and jet. 

* * * * * 

While he from forth the closet brought a heap 
Of candied apple, quince, and plum, and gourd ; 

With jellies smoother than the creamy curd, 

And lucent syrups tint with cinnamon; 

Manna and dates, in argosy transferr’d 
From Fez; and spiced dainties, every one, 

From silken Samarcand to cedar’d Lebanon.” 

But Tennyson has ventured beyond dates, and quinces, and syrups, 
which may be thought easy to be brought in by a poet. In his 
idyll of “ Audley Court ’’ he gives a most appetizing description of a 
pasty at a picnic : 

“There, on the slope of orchard, Francis laid 
A damask napkin wrought with horse and hound ; 

Brought out a dusky loaf that smelt of home, 

And, half cut down, a pasty costly made, 

Where quail and pigeon, lark and leveret, lay 
Like fossils of the rock, with golden yolks 
Imbedded and injellied,” 

We gladly quote passages like these, to show how eating and 
drinking may be surrounded with poetical associations, and how man, 
using his privilege to turn any and every repast into a “feast of 
reason,” with a warm and plentiful “ flow of soul,” may really count it 
as not the least of his legitimate prides, that he is “ a dining animal.” 

Great Diners. —It has been said, indeed, that great men, in 
general, are great diners. This, however, can scarcely be true of any 
great men but men of action ; and in that case, it would simply imply 
that persons of vigorous constitution, who work hard, eat heartily ; for, 
of course, a life of action requires a vigorous constitution, even though 
there may be much illness, as in such cases as William III and brave 
General Napier. Of men of thought, it can scarcely be true that they 
eat so much, in a general way, though they even eat more than we 
are apt to suppose they do ; for, as Mr. Lewes observes, “ nerve tissue 
is very expensive.” So also is working “tissue,” if we may use the 
word again, and it is a certain thing that a fair amount of well cooked, 




ETIQUETTE. 


2 99 

wholesome food is a necessary thing where good work has to be done. 
We have been told by the heads of firms who employ a great number 
of persons, that, apart from their duty to their employes, it is quite a 
matter of business to feed them well, and for this reason they prefer 
to have them in the house, that they may be sure that lack of proper 
food does not prevent their doing a fair amount of work. 

Variety of Food. —Of course dinners such as would be served 
at these large establishments are very easily arranged, well cooked 
joints forming the staple food, and of these we need not speak except 
to notice one complaint which we often hear, namely, the lack of 
variety in the dinners given at these large houses. Good and well 
cooked as the food is, there are many people who cannot eat beef and 
mutton every day, and still a larger number who cannot enjoy it, and 
it seems a pity that some variety in food, although it would involve 
more trouble, cannot be given to those who lead such very monotonous 
lives. However, this is the age of improvement, and it being so well 
known that change of diet, if not absolutely essential, is a very good 
thing for all, doubtless ere long there will be nothing to complain of 
in this respect, and dinners of more varied kinds of food for these 
large numbers, which will cost no more than the present one (probably 
less) will be provided, that being better relished, will be better di¬ 
gested. 

Elaborate Dinners. —On the other hand, many people are dis¬ 
posed to object to the variety of dishes at a modern dinner table, but 
as there are to be found in all good dinners some simple joint or 
other things which can be chosen from the more elaborate menus, 
they have little cause to grumble. The majority of diners prefer a 
variety, which does not necessarily imply anything unwholesome or 
capricious, and the appetite of the overworked statesman or man of 
business, or of any dweller in towns whose occupations are exciting 
and exhausting, is jaded, and requires stimulants, such as are to be 
found in good dinners. 

Elegant Dinners. —There are plenty of elegant dinners in 
modern days, and they were not wanting in ancient times. It is well 
known that the dinner-party, or symposium, was a not unimportant, 
and not unpoetical, feature in the life of the sociable, talkative, tasteful 
Greeks. Douglas Jerrold said that such is the British humor for 
dining and giving dinners, that if London were to be destroyed by an 
earthquake, the Londoners would meet at a public dinner to consider 
the subject. The Greeks, too, were great diners ; their social and 




300 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


religious polity gave them many chances of being merry, and making 
others merry on good eating and drinking. Any public or even do¬ 
mestic sacrifice to one of the gods, was sure to be followed by a dinner¬ 
party, the remains of the slaughtered “ offering” being served up on 
the occasion as a pious piece de resistance ; and as the different gods, 
goddesses and demigods, worshiped by the community in general, or 
by individuals, were very numerous indeed, and some very religious 
people never let a day pass without offering up something or other, 
the dinner-parties were countless. A birthday, too, was an excuse for 
a dinner; a birthday, that is, of any person long dead and buried, as 
well as of a living person, being a member of the family, or otherwise 
esteemed. Dinners were, of course, eaten on all occasions of public 
rejoicing. Then, among the young people, subscription dinners, very 
much after the manner of modern times, were always being got up ; 
only that they would be eaten not at a hotel, but probably at the 
house of one of the heteroe . A Greek dinner-party was a handsome, 
well-regulated affair. The guests came in elegantly dressed, and 
crowned with flowers. A slave approaching each person as he entered, 
took off his sandals, and washed his feet. During the repast, the 
guests reclined on couches with pillows, among and along which were 
set small tables. After the solid meal came the “ symposium ” proper, 
a scene of music, merriment and dancing, the two latter being sup¬ 
plied chiefly by young girls. There was a chairman, or symposiarch, ap¬ 
pointed by the company to regulate the drinking; and it was his duty 
to mix the wine in the “mighty bowl.” From this bowl the attendants 
ladled the liquor into goblets, and, with the goblets, went round and 

round the tables, filling the cups of the guests. 

* * 

In the Russian banquet, the table is extremely narrow, the ladies 
all walk in together and are followed by the gentlemen, who sit op¬ 
posite them, the servants come and hand round every dish, the vege¬ 
tables are served in separate compartments of a large round dish. 
When the dessert is handed round, the guests help themselves to all 
they are likely to require at once ; the dessert is replaced upon the 
table and not again touched. On retiring from table, the ladies 
again precede the gentlemen, and all take their departure at once, 
unless invited especially to spend the evening ; a custom that might 
be followed with advantage at many reunions out of Russia. 

A great gastronomist, from whom we have already quoted, has 
some aphorisms and short directions in relation to dinner-parties, 
which are well deserving of notice : “ Let the number of your guests 


ETIQUETTE. 


301 


never exceed twelve, so that the conversation may be general. Let 
the temperature of the dining-room be about 68 0 . Let the dishes be 
few in number in the first course, but proportionally good. The 
order of food is from the most substantial to the lightest. The order 
of drinking wine is from the mildest to the most foamy and most per¬ 
fumed. To invite a person to your house is to take charge of his 
happiness so long as he is beneath your roof. The mistress of the 
house should always be certain that the coffee be excellent; whilst 
the master should be answerable for the quality of his wines and 
liqueurs.” Very good advice for the times for which it was written, but 
in “ The age we live in,” there are many more things to be considered. 

Dinner Parties. —As we have before observed, “ Man is a dining 
animal,” and we contend that young people, as well as old, can really 
enjoy a dinner party, and that every one can appreciate a good one— 
only they involve a greater amount of thought than many are pre¬ 
pared to bestow. 

Let no one imagine that to give wines and meats of the best and 
most costly kind, is to insure one’s guests enjoyment of the same, for 
there are few of us whose painful experience it has not been to sigh 
over a dinner, which in itself was irreproachable, and which might 
have been enjoyable, but—was quite the contrary. 

There are many more things to be considered than the actual 
dinner itself, if one aspires to be a successful dinner giver, but there 
is one golden rule which, if every one observed it, would at any rate 
prevent many failures, and that is our advice to all who entertain, 
“ Keep within your means.” 

We mean this in its broadest sense, not simply not to spend more 
than one can afford, for many can spare money who cannot give time, 
and many more can do the former, who have not the room, con¬ 
venience, or faculty, for entertainment. 

Dinners, like dresses, want consideration; a picnic may be im¬ 
promptu, in fact those hastily arranged are very often the most 
enjoyable, but there is not, or ought not to be (unless for a small, 
unceremonious one), anything impromptu about a dinner. 

What we wish to imply by keeping within one’s means, is not to 
entertain to the extreme limit of our resources, and we hope our 
readers will not consider us impertinent in giving them the following 
advice : 

Number of Guests. —Never ask more people than you can com¬ 
fortably seat, or than you have servants to wait upon. Think well 





302 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


over your list of guests before you invite them, and plan how you can 
arrange them at table, so that you can feel beforehand that you can 
give each guest a companion who will, in all probability, be a pleasant 
one, which, if it be a large party, will greatly lessen your respon¬ 
sibilities. 

It is no use bringing a number of people together who cannot 
amuse each other—far better is it (although more trouble, perhaps) to 
have several little dinners to which only kindred spirits need be bidden, 
than one large one, and even the most gregarious persons will allow 
that these little dinners are, as a rule, the pleasantest. 

Temperature of Room.— Another very important thing very 
often overlooked, is the temperature of the dining-room. More than 
once, in the depth of winter, we have heard people say, “We will 
not have a fire in the dining-room, for it gets so hot before dinner is 
over,” seeming to forget there is a beginning to everything as well as 
an end, and if in evening dress we shiver through three or four 
courses, even if we get warmer later on, it has spoiled the whole thing. 

Another in the same season will, “on hospitality intent,” make 
the room unendurably hot with high piled fires, and the heat is, per¬ 
haps, almost more difficult to bear than the cold. 

We maintain that it is not possible to thoroughly enjoy a good 
dinner in a room either too hot or too cold, and would ask hostesses 
to well consider the subject. 

Warming of the Dining-Room. —In many of the modern houses, 
it is easy enough with hot-water pipes taking the place of fires, and 
well-planned ventilators to have, and to keep the room at a pleasant 
temperature, and we think the pipes a very great improvement upon 
fires for warming dining-rooms. Still there are many rooms to which 
these could not easily be fitted, and very many people who object to 
them, and prefer to see good old-fashioned fires. 

Rooms so vary in the way of being easily warmed or the reverse, 
that one can lay down no rule, but the main thing is, to heat them 
by the before-mentioned fires to a fair temperature during the day, 
and (if necessary) let the fire out during dinner, and to have proper 
ventilation without draft. 

The latter can generally be effected by consulting proper people 
upon the subject, and a valve which allows a free current of air to 
circulate round the upper part of the room, is an excellent thing, while 
one’s servants should be instructed to refer occasionally to a thermom¬ 
eter, and act accordingly with regard both to fire and ventilation. 




ETIQUETTE. 


303 


In any case screen the fire for the sake of those who may have 
to sit with their backs to it, and for this purpose there is nothing better 
than a glass screen through which it can be seen, but not felt. Let 
it be also remembered that the lighting (except by electricity) makes 
a very great difference to the heat of the room, and it is wise to have 
the full amount required for the evening put on some time before¬ 
hand, so that we may judge of its effect. 

Di ning in Hot Weather. —In warm weather the subject of 
temperature is often more difficult to deal with, and yet it is quite as 
necessary to keep a room cool in summer as warm in winter. 

As we have said before, rooms so vary that no hard and fast rule 
can be laid down, but it is pretty safe to exclude both light and air 
during the day, and to let them in when the first has lost its heat and 
glare, and the latter has grown cooler, which is generally the case 
before the hour of dinner, also to have plenty of cool looking foliage, 
ferns, etc., disposed in the fireplaces and round the room, while if a 
fountain is practicable in a conservatory adjoining, or an alcove, or 
even a fireplace (as I have seen some done by Dick Radclyffe), the 
sound of falling water, if it does not really affect the temperature, 
seems to give an additional coolness to the atmosphere. 

Lighting. —Next we come to the lighting of the room, by no 
means a small matter. For this purpose nothing could be better than 
the single large hanging lamp now so fashionable, though it should be 
remembered that one lamp is not always sufficient to light a very long 
table. 

The thin cr to be arrived at for comfort and effect is, that a 
pleasant and sufficient light should be thrown from above, and con¬ 
centrated upon the table and guests, whilst the remainder of‘the room 
may be in comparative shadow, with only enough light to enable the 
servants to do their work. 

This is, as we have said before, most easily achieved by a hanging 
lamp, while in the case of a very long table, some additional light 
will probably be needed. For this purpose we may mention that the 
little lamps of tinted transparent glass, with shades which are made to 
fit into candlesticks, are very good. Most people have tall, old- 
fashioned candlesticks, put aside as out of date, and we would advise 
them to try these little lamps in them, which, raised in this way, give 
an excellent light, and take up very little room. 

These will also be found useful where a hanging lamp cannot be 
put up, and the light from the sides of the room is not sufficient. 


304 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


Few people care for gas now in a dining-room, but it is nn- 
doubtedly useful to have it laid on at the sides, though, as we have 
before said, the main light should be concentrated upon the table itself, 
of which we must not forget to speak. 

Tables of Different Sizes. —The happy possessors of more 
than one dining room are in the minority, but we hold that to have a 
small as well as a large one is very convenient, for the reason that the 
table should as nearly as possible correspond with the size of the 
room, while it ought to be proportionate to the number of the guests. 

In a room capable of dining comfortably, say thirty people, a 
table about large enough for six looks lost, and yet it is not well to 
scatter the guests round a large one. The large, old-fashioned, ob¬ 
long table, which wasted so much room at either end, has now given 
place to the oval or round, and the host and hostess, as a rule, having 
nothing to carve, have no more room allotted to them than any one 
else. 

To our mind, a round table is pretty and more comfortable than 
any other ; it is easy to see every one round it, and it therefore pro¬ 
motes conversation, but, as a rule, the large dining room is not of a 
shape to accommodate one ; but if a smaller room is also used, it will 
be found a convenient shape for a small number, while an extra leaf 
will make it a slight oval, and accommodate two or four more. 

For the large room the oval is generally the most convenient, 
and it is best to have both the lar^e and small leaves to lengthen it. 

o O 

Allowance of Room.—A good rule is to allow twenty-four 
inches for each person’s accommodation. Where the table is neces¬ 
sarily a little too large, a little more room does not matter, but on no 
account give less, for there is no greater misery than crowding. 

In another chapter we have to deal with covering and laying the 
table; and its decoration will also be treated of. So we need only say 
in conclusion that nothing is more pleasant on entering a room in 
which we are to be entertained than to be struck with its grace and 
beauty, and when we sit down to be gladdened by an exquisitely 
arranged table, where there is something to admire throughout the 
meal, and nothing to obstruct the view, as is now the good custom, 
we feel at once quite ready and able to appreciate the good things in 
store. 

The meal of dinner, it has been said, is enjoyed all the more 
when the breakfast has been light, and we may assume when no 
luncheon has come between to mar the arrangement of our digestive 



ETIQUETTE. 


305 


powers. But our advice is, eat as good a breakfast as you can ; it is a 
foundation both mentally and bodily for health during the day. Din¬ 
ner, however, is the meal of the day, the piece de resistance on which 
we chiefly expend our culinary knowledge and labors. To see about 
the dinner is the housewife’s chief morning, and sometimes overnight, 
reflection. It is, too, the prominent work of the morning with her¬ 
self and her cook or general servant. It is a meal that, whilst it 
exercises our powers of ingenuity, and requires expended upon it an 
immense amount of attention, to say nothing of time, is spoiled by a 
mere breath of mismanagement. 

Rules for Dinner-giving. —Before we * can come to the 
actual arrangements for our dinner table we must come to a perfect 
understanding concerning the following matters: 

Rule 1.—Let your family dinner hour be at a given hour, and let 
that hour be the dinner hour. Allow no shirking here from any one 
unless accident or circumstances render such compulsory. Then you 
stand some chance of being able to turn your cookery talents, if you 
have any, to account, or, if you have not them already, to cultivate them. 

Rule 2.—Always arrange your dinner, having a kind of mind’s- 
eye menu, satisfactorily beforehand, before you attempt either to give 
directions concerning it or to help, it may be, in its preparation. 
Without this, you may give your family or your guests an eatable, 
presentable dinner now and then, a kind of accidental good fortune, 
but, as a general rule, it will be a failure. Experienced housekeepers 
may exclaim, “ But do women ever behave so foolishly ?” Yes, they 
do, times out of number, and to that they must attribute much of 
their failure in dinner-giving. When the architect has planned 
a house the builder may build it ; when an author has planned a book 
he may write it with comparative ease, and when we have thought¬ 
fully “ compiled ’’ our dinner, we may cook it. First, we want the 
“ mind’s-eye menu,” and then one for our outward eye, and our cook’s 
observance. 

Rule 3.—For a “hot dinner” let the plates be hot, not warm 
merely, but hot. The best dinner you can give your guests will be 
spoiled if you serve it to them on plates in which almost before they 
begin to eat the gravy floats about in small, island-like patches. 

Rule ^—Give due attention to the “ order ” of courses. You 
do not want your fish, for instance, ready before the soup, causing 
the former to look flabby, and most likely break and lose their trim 
appearance. 


20 






3°6 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


Rule 5.—Be careful in dishing vegetables, that they are perfectly 
drained from water. Turnips or other edibles of the kind swimming 
about in a sea of dingy water are enough to cause the excellence of 
the cookery of the other viands to be put in the shade. Also, if 
assistance in dishing up be scarce in the kitchen, contrive to keep 
your meat hot by means—if you have not the proper ones, a meat- 
screen, etc.,—such as your woman’s wit will suggest, rather than spoil 
your vegetables by dishing them up too soon, and thus rendering them 
lumpy, sodden and lukewarm. These should come to table with a 
fresh, crisp, eatable look upon them. With regard to rule No. 
1, it will be well to remember that meats lose their flavor by delay 
on the table after being placed there in perfect readiness to be eaten. 

Dinner Parties. —Dinners a la Russe , as they used to be called, 
are now so Anglicized and so common that we find them even in the 
houses of people of very moderate incomes, who hire a carver to do 
what is properly done by the butler. This is scarcely a plan to be 
commended, however, unless the party be very small, as not only a 
carver but extra waiting is needed where everything is handed. On 
the other hand, where there are plenty of servants there is no more 
pleasant form of dinner serving, allowing as it does for the table 
to be so decorated as to present an attractive picture during the meal. 

We give, later on, hints for table decoration at different seasons 
of the year, so that we need not enlarge upon the subject here, only 
saying that, where dinner is served entirely from the sideboard, it is 
absolutely necessary that the table be decorated in some manner. It 
is now more usual to set only one or two of the principal dishes on 
the table, such as the principal joints, or the poultry, and perhaps the 
fish. Entrees, which precede the substantial joints, are handed round 
to each of the guests, who in this way are served more quickly, and 
with less trouble to both cooks and waiters. If the fish is filleted or 
cut up, it is often handed in the same way, and some people prefer to 
have the soup tureens set on the sideboard, and served to the guests 
from thence. In small households the joints and birds must be carved 
on table, in default of an experienced carver among the servants. 
Dressed vegetables are handed round after the joints. The principal 
puddings are often cut into on table, and jellies or creams handed 
round after. Cheese is now seldom set on table, but a small 
plate or dish of cut cheese, garnished with parsley, and others of 
butter and of biscuits or pulled bread, are handed round too-ether 
to each guest. 



ETIQUETTE. 30 J 

The sideboard cloth requires to be laid as carefully as the dinner- 
table itself, and everything that can be put there ready for placing on 
the table afterward, such as finger glasses, wine and other glasses, 
dessert plates, decanters, and knives, forks, and spoons of every kind 
should be there ready, and carefully arranged. The decanters, salvers, 
glasses, etc., should be put well at the back of the sideboard, and the 
plates, knives, forks, etc., neatly laid in front. 

When the dinner is not carved on the table, one specially 
intended for the carver should be prepared, with carving knives and 
forks (the former carefully sharpened beforehand) of various kinds, 
soup ladle, fish carvers, etc., in the order of serving the dinner, that 
nothing may delay him when he commences his duties. 

If the dessert is not upon the table during dinner, room should be 
found for it on a side table, or at least for all that can be put there, 
strong-smelling fruits, or very delicately-flavored ones, being better 
kept out of the room till required. 

Champagne, hock, or other sparkling wines that are only un¬ 
corked when wanted, may find a place under the sideboard or side 
tables where the ice pails are to be found ; decanted wines are put 
on the sideboard. 

The order of the courses should be as follows, when placed upon 
the table : The First Course usually soup, then fish, then comes the 
entrees (made dishes). The next Course joints, poultry, etc., and 
after these, game and savory dishes, then sweets, then cheese, cooked 
or uncooked, or such small savories as anchovy toast. When there 
are roast meats they should be opposite colors, thus, not two whites 
nor two browns, Place joints upon large dishes, as they form a con¬ 
siderable portion of the dinner. Entrees require care in handling; 
there is nearly always gravy with them, and this must not be upset on 
the cloth. The Third Course used to be entrees , joints, poultry, etc., 
and removes. Next in order came the creams, pastry, and sweets ; 
this was The Fourth Course , and the fifth consisted of cheese, butter, 
celery, salads, etc. The last arrangement of dishes—which cannot be 
called a course, seeing that the dinner is virtually over—the dessert, this 
comprising tastefully-arranged fruits that are most in season, together 
with appropriate dried fruits that are seasonable all the year round. 

Now the soup is very often preceded by such little dishes as 
caviare, croutons, oysters, and other little appetisans , while others 
are introduced during the meal, and every separate dish forms a 
separate course. 



ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 



HOW TO WAIT ON TABLE. 

The servants who wait at table are usually, in large estab¬ 
lishments, a butler and several footmen ; in smaller ones, one man¬ 
servant and a parlor-maid, and in many cases parlor-maid and house¬ 
maid only. If hired waiters are employed, they must be very neatly 
attired in a black suit, a white necktie, and white gloves (fearfully 
resembling that of one of the gentlemen guests). The women servants 
should wear muslin aprons (white) and irreproachable collar, cap and 
cuffs. They should be quick-sighted, deft-hancled, and soft of foot. 
There should be at least one servant or waiter on each side of the 
table, at a moderately large dinner-party. The waiting commences 
from the head of the table, and there must be other waiters, or rather 
the waiters’ assistants, outside the door, to bring the dishes and 
remove them entirely from the room. When the dinner is served on 
the table, the waiter must stand at the left-hand side of the carver, 
and remove the covers. As the soup comes first, a plateful is carried 
to each person, unless they signify they do not wish for any, and 
commences from the one (a lady always) on the right of the host. 
The sherry and claret then are handed round. The moment a per¬ 
son’s plate is empty, or if it is finished eating from, it must be quietly 
taken away, spoon and all, and another clean one put in its place. 
These soiled plates are all carried to their proper receptacle, a zinc- 
lined basket for the purpose, standing in a convenient corner near the 
sideboard. The soup-tureen is removed last. All forks, spoons, and 
cutlery, when dirty, are placed in boxes or baskets similar to the plate 
bucket or basket, with a cloth at the bottom ; the cloth is for two 
good purposes—that there may be no unnecessary noise, and that the 
articles therein shall not be scratched or otherwise damaged. The 
fish is carried round in the same manner as the soup, the attendant 
having in the left hand the sauce-tureen, or being followed by another 
servant carrying it. All plates are placed and removed by the waiter 
at the left-hand of the carver, or of the person being served. Sauces 
are next taken round, and then the wine. Entrees are almost in¬ 
variably handed, even when the joints are carved upon the table. 
When the joint comes on, and the meat has been taken to the guests 
as before, the vegetables (which are upon the sideboard, and not on 
the table) are handed about, together with a tureen of gravy for fowls 
or birds. The same process is gone through with respect to the soiled 
plates. Dinner over, the crumb-brushes are brought into requisition ; 






ETIQUETTE. 


309 


the dessert-plates arranged upon the table ; and after everything is in 
proper order, a few dishes are handed round by the attendants, who 
then leave the room. In handing beer, which is not now much drank 
at dinners that come at all under the head of “party dinners,” or the 
aerated waters now always given, the attendants take the small tray or 
salver in the left hand, and, standing at the left side of the guest 
who places his or her glass upon it to be filled, pours out the liquid 
with the right hand. 

Management of the Dishes. —If these are placed upon the 
table, when there is only one chief dish, place it at the head of the 
table. If two, one to the host, and one to the hostess. If three, 
one (the principal) at the head, and the other two together near the 
bottom. If four, the two principal at top and bottom, the others at 
the sides. Six dishes can be arranged as for four. Seven will require 
three dishes down the middle of the table, and two on either side. 

Old-fashioned Dinner Parties. —There are some people who 
still prefer to have their dinner put upon the table, but even with 
these, as with our other two tables, the breakfast and the luncheon, 
the appearance the dinner table will present depends not upon 
crowding it with fish, flesh, and fowl, but upon a carefully-arranged 
study of the whole. A cook is an artist, if she be a good one, and a 
good “layer of cloths” is*an artist too, surely. It does not want a 
fabulous sum of money to give one’s guest a handsomely-arranged 
dinner table ; what it does want are, much common sense, much 
method, and good taste in plenty. With these three to the fore, a 
dinner giver on a large or small scale can seldom fail at her work. 

The only way to attain perfection in this work is to let our 
ordinary family table arrangements differ very little—and that only in 
the really expensive items—from those of the guest-table. A dinner, 
then, to one’s friends, is not a very grave affair with us. It is in 
reality but the adding of a few more knives, forks, spoons, serviettes, 
etc. It does not throw us into “ a state,” for fear we shall make an 
error somewhere or somehow ; nor does it worry our servants, and 
throw them off the usual equilibrium of work to a discomforting 
degree. The affair becomes a little increase of work, instead of fresh 
and sometimes appalling work, altogether. It removes all traces of 
awkwardness in one’s domestics ; the children, often much in the way 
when a dinner party is projected, find nothing to wonder at, remark 
upon, and perhaps inform visitors about, to the discomfiture of their 
parents. 




3iO 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


It is now customary to keep the white cloth on after dinner, and 
to put the dessert and wines upon it, and one may, with perfect pro¬ 
priety, lay at the top and bottom of the table two small white cloths, 
of a texture equal to the large one, and as much in keeping with it as 
possible, in case of accidents, such as unsightly slops of gravy from 
the principal dishes. These would, of course, mar the look of the 
table in toto , and it is impossible for even the most skilful of carvers 
to acquit himself of his task without mischances occasionally. These 
little “accident ” cloths are removed after dinner. 

HOW TO LAY A CLOTH. 

Anybody knowing how to lay a cloth properly and tastefully, 
prettily and neatly, knows something decidedly worth knowing. The 
first, or almost the first, attention bestowed by a young wife upon her 
household affairs should be directed to the laying of the meal cloth. 
Just as she begins, so, doubtless, she will go on. The laying of the 
cloth is a most important item in household management; it exercises 
a certain moral influence upon the inmates of the house in the degree 
of care or thought that is bestowed upon it. We give hints upon the 
subject, which we hope will be found welcome to our readers. 

Whether the table is to be covered with the most costly viands 
or the most simple fare, whether it be for prince or tradesman, there 
is yet equal necessity that the cloth should be spotless and good, the 
cutlery well cleaned and sharp, the silver polished brightly, and the 
glass clear. These are luxuries within the reach of all. We say “lux¬ 
uries” because we all know the comfort of a well laid table, and yet 
there are many who do not trouble themselves about the usual every¬ 
day laying of the cloth, only making a point of this being carefully 
done when guests are expected. We would venture to suggest that 
if the mistress of a household would see that her table was properly 
laid every day, she would find it less trouble than the anxiety of 
having it so only now and then, and much of the annoyance which the 
occasional dropping in of a friend at meal times often causes, could be 
spared. Besides, though perhaps this point should not be discussed 
here, why should our ordinary family table differ so widely, as we 
confess it does too often, from the table we like our friends to see us 
presiding at? It is because we have let “only ourselves” take a 
broader,wider meaning than it should have. “ Only ourselves,” stands 
too often as the apology for a dirty cloth, unpolished cutlery and silver, 
and smeared glass, to say nothing of perhaps negligent cookery into 


ETIQUETTE. 


311 

the bargain. And is it not a notable fact that when we do give a 
dinner-party, we strive our utmost to carry off the affair with ease and 
nonchalance, and are vexed if the secret be discovered—more than 
vexed—that to do this has been a source of worry and hard work ever 
since we projected the scheme. It is seldom, too, that we succeed in 
keeping the secret to ourselves, and our friends sometimes maliciously 
enjoy it. 

The Table, being used by a large majority for both breakfast 
and dinner as well as other meals, should be one with extra leaves, it 
being such a great discomfort to partake of any meal when one has 
not sufficient elbow room, while it is equally unnecessary for the home 
party, if small, to have a large table in daily use. The ordinary 
dining-room table being mahogany, should be kept polished and cov¬ 
ered with baize to avoid the marks which hot dishes are apt to make. 
This baize cloth is most convenient when made about six inches 
larger than the table all round, and drawn up under its edges with a 
string run in the hem. 

The Cloth should be amply able to cover the table and hang 
down at least half a yard upon each side all round, and as we have 
said before, should be of good quality, spotlessly clean, folded in 
proper folds, and as smooth as possible. The way to fold a tablecloth 
is to double it in half lengthwise, then double this again in the same 
manner, now place the two ends together, lay the cloth thus doubled 
on a table, and fold over and over in small portions until it is of the 
width of about six or seven inches. Always refold a tablecloth in its 
original folds, any deviation from this rule will cause it to present a 
most unsightly appearance. It may be kept in a tablecloth holder, 
made of American cloth, something like a music roll, and placed in a 
sideboard drawer. If possible, every mistress of a household should 
possess herself of a press ; it is invaluable for its economy, and will 
soon save its moderate price in the washing-bill; for oftenstable 
napkins are merely unfolded and crushed, but otherwise are unsoiled, 
and to smooth them is difficult by merely refolding them. The table¬ 
cloth and serviettes should always be good. It is great folly to buy 
inferior house linen at all, but common tablecloths for everyday 
family use are a mistake. They do not last any longer than the good 
ones : indeed, not nearly so long ; and no matter whether your fare 
be sumptuous or not, your tablecloth will always get a tolerable share 
of attention from the persons dining. Out in the kitchen they are 
allowable, for the reason that as a rule servants’ ways and habits at the 




3 12 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


table are not as our ways, and tablecloths will get cut and otherwise 
damaged. The number of your tablecloths must, of course, be in 
accordance with the size of your household, but at any rate provide 
a sufficiency. There should be a breakfast-cloth proper ; never make 
one cloth do duty for breakfast and dinner too. 

The Serviettes or Table Napkins should be neatly and taste¬ 
fully folded when first put on the table, although afterward in ordi¬ 
nary family use they may be put into rings. It is a good plan to 
place them upon the table first so that one can apportion the space 
allowed for each person, and make the napkins equi-distant, and in 
laying a dinner-table the roll or piece of bread is put in the folds. 

The Wines at an ordinary dinner are sherry, champagne, claret, 

madeira and port. Sherry or hock is introduced with the soup and 

* 

the fish, champagne with the joints, and at dessert are all of those 
named (sometimes port is omitted now). Liqueurs are served with 
the sweet course.’’ Champagne is not decanted, but is carried round 
by the attendants with a white napkin round the neck of the bottle. 

To Lay the Dessert. —This may be very simple, and consist 
merely of a couple of dishes of fresh fruit in season, two of dried 
fruits, and two each of dessert-biscuits and nuts. Ices may be handed 
round for each guest to serve himself, an ice plate being put under 
the finger-bowl, or a portion on an ice plate may be handed to each 
guest. If the ice is sent in ice-pails, the latter is the better way ; if it 
is moulded, perhaps the former. When there are two principal des¬ 
sert dishes, put them by the host and hostess, or upon either side of 
the center vase of flowers. Frosted or crystallized fruit is served in 
glass dishes, with ornamental paper d’oyleys. Ice, nicely broken, in 
ornamental pails, should find a place upon the dessert table in 
summer. Put a dessert plate to each person, and a dessert knife, fork, 
and spoon, with glasses according to the wine. The plate should 
have a d’oyley upon it; put a finger glass, filled to within two inches 
of the brim with cold water in summer, and slightly warm in winter, 
or scented waters, at the right hand of the plate. The dishes must 
have their respective implement close to them, such as the grape- 
scissors, melon-cutter, etc. Always remember to have finely-sifted 
loaf sugar in nice-looking glass, or electro, or silver bowls, with sugar 
ladles, either upon the table or the sideboard ; and if cream be re¬ 
quired, let stand by the dish it is to be served with. An elegant glass 
water-jug, with two corresponding drinking glasses, should be placed 
somewhere near the center of the table. Wine is put, decanted, at 



ETIQUETTE. 


the top and bottom. If coffee is served before the ladies leave the 
dinner-table, it should be last of all, and poured into very small cups 
and handed round on a tray, to the guests, by the servants, together 
with cream and sugar. Tea is not served until after dinner, when the 
guests re-assemble in the drawing-room. 

HOW TO GIVE A LUNCHEON. 

GENERAL OBSERVATIONS ON LUNCHEON, WITH MENUS FOR PUBLIC, 

GUEST, PICNIC AND FAMILY LUNCHEONS. 

Luncheon, as a word of comprehensive meaning, may fairly take 
a high place, signifying as it does such a great variety of meals, rang¬ 
ing from the simple “glassof wine and a biscuit,” or the more humble 
“ crust of bread and cheese and glass of ale ” to an elaborate meah 
that is, in all but name, a dinner. Only one general meaning that the 
word has is, that it stands for whatever is partaken of between the 
last named meal and breakfast. Many are the arguments for and 
against luncheon, some right, some wrong, no doubt ; but for all that, 
we have luucheon fully installed amongst our list of meals, and there 
it is likely to remain till the end of the chapter. 

When the dinner hour is an early one, those who value their 
health will do well to avoid lunching; but when breakfast takes place 
at 8 or 9 and dinner is late, a substantial lunch may safely be indulged 
in, and is a most useful, if not absolutely necessary meal. 

These meals are naturally regulated by various circumstances, 
such as individual taste, means and station ; in a high-class house, 
however, it is usual to serve a good repast, not alone for the family, 
but for the reason that, at an informal meal, chance guests have to be 
provided for. 

However simple the meal may be, the luncheon dishes should be 
as neatly and daintily placed upon the table as on a more elaborate one, 
the cloth clean, the silver and glass bright, while, if possible, a few 
flowers should be found for its decoration, or in place of these some 
ferns in pretty china pots, shells or rustic baskets, look extremely well, 
and, with care, will last a long time. 

According to the luncheon to be served so must the table be 
laid; but it should be impressed upon the servants, when they are not 
required to wait at table, that everything necessary should be brought 
into the room—clean plates, glasses, knives and forks being laid ready 
on the sideboard, which, covered with a white cloth, is used for the 
same purpose as at breakfast. 



314 ART, society and accomplishments. 

The arrangement of tables for meals does not stand so much 

o 

upon strict etiquette, if I may use the word in respect to the matter, 
or to the precedence of this and that article of use, as upon a certain 
taste, born only of a cultivated eye to order and method, their lodg¬ 
ment thereon. A raw, ill-taught servant, for instance, coming for the 
first time into the dining-room to get her first lesson in laying a cloth, 
will, if left to her own devices, lay that cloth, and the articles nec¬ 
essary to it, in a manner simply excruciating to witness. The cloth 
is to be put on the table, and she puts it on. She sees nothing 
in the fact that it reaches two inches over the edge of the table 
on this side, and a yard and a quarter on that; that the center 
“crease” is wofully “off the line.’’ The knives, forks, spoons, 
glasses, etc., simply bewilder her, and she gets rid of them by drop¬ 
ping them here and there all over the table in the inanest manner 
possible. But take a little girl, on the other hand, always accustomed 
to see the meal arrangements executed with precision and taste at 
home, and set her to lay a cloth. She will not lay it all as it should 
be, without doubt, but her management of it will have nothing about 
it to excite contempt and ridicule. It would be prettily, but wrongly laid. 
Just so with us ; we may take our dinner-tables in our hands, and defy 
fashion and the order of things, and come to no grief, if we will but 
attend to strict good taste and method, and actual necessities. 

A simple luncheon may be placed on a butler’s tray, all ready 
arranged upon a tray-cloth. These trays have, in some cases, sides 
that let down, and then all the servant has to do is to put the tray 
upon the table, and let down the sides. 

Beverages should be appropriate to the menu. For a good 
luncheon in summer all light wines are suitable, with some lemonade 
or aerated water for those who prefer to dilute them, and ice should 
not be wanting. Claret, champagne, and cider-cup are all favorites 
for the hot weather. In winter, sherry and claret are the wines most 
often found. 

For a homely luncheon, ale, stout or cider, are often the accom¬ 
panying beverages; while, for those who do not take stimulants, 
there are an infinite variety of non-alcoholic drinks, effervescent or 
otherwise. 


PICNICS. 

One of the pleasantest forms of entertainment is a well-arranged 

O 

picnic (if only a fine day be selected), while nothing is calculated to 


ETIQUETTE. 


3t5 

give greater dissatisfaction than a badly-managed one. To have 
chosen the wrong people (even one or two, who are likely not to make 
themselves not agreeable), to have given people wrong seats in the 
various vehicles, or to have too many ladies in the party, are all often 
fatal errors. 

We say nothing of the mistakes made about the luncheon or 
dinner, when, as is often the case, the ladies provide this, each taking 
what she likes, with the result, that there is too much of one thing 
and too little of another ; plenty of salad, and no dressing; two or 
three legs of lamb, and no mint sauce ; an abundance of wine and no 
corkscrew ; and such like little accidents. Given a happy party of 
young people, bent on enjoyment, these are trifles light as air, which 
serve rather to increase the fun than diminish it. But, on the 
other hand, the party may not all be young and merry ; it may be 
very distasteful to some to have to eat meat without bread , and almost 
impossible without salt , while, no corkscrew being at hand, it will rouse 
their indignation to see the necks of the bottles knocked off, or the 
corks incompletely picked out with a penknife ; and yet, in the annals 
of picnics, all these things, bread, salt and corkscrew, have been for¬ 
gotten. 

The easiest way to arrange that there should be nothing want¬ 
ing, if the ladies provide the repast, is for one lady (the most com¬ 
petent) to make out a menu, adding all the little etceteras, and 
apportion to each one her share. 

TABLE NAPKINS. 

TABLE NAPKINS OR “SERVIETTES.” 

The usual size of these indispensable accompaniments to the 
dinner-table is either a square, measuring from twenty-eight to thirty 
inches ; or twenty-eight inches in breadth, by thirty inches in length, 
while breakfast ones are about twenty-four inches square. In ordinary 
family use they are sometimes folded smoothly and slipped through 
“napkin rings,” made of bone', ivory or silver; in fact, after first 
usino- this is eenerally the case, each member of the family having his 

O w ' 

or her own ring. But whilst this arrangement is most convenient 
for family use, those required for dinner-parties and other formal 
occasions should be neatly and prettily folded. The accompanying 
engravings exhibit those most in favor, and the methods of folding 
them. It must, however, be remembered that it is useless to attempt 


3 l6 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


anything but the most simple forms unless the napkins have been 
slightly starched and smoothly ironed. In every case the folding 
must be exact, or the result will be slovenly and unsightly. A small 
dinner-roll, or a piece of bread cut thick, about three inches square, 
should be placed in each napkin, and such patterns as the “ Mitre,’’ 
the “ Neapolitan,” the “ Rose,” and the “ Star,” are convenient shapes, 
while, whenever it is possible to do so, the appearance of the dinner- 
table will be greatly improved by putting a flower or small bouquet in 
each napkin. 






DINNER TABLE ARRANGED FOR TWELVE PERSONS. 
















TABLE DECORATIONS. 


The decoration of tables at the present time is almost universal, 
and so does the taste for it grow and develop, that what was formerly 
left in the hands of the head servants in large establishments, who 

had no difficulty in packing the heavy 
epergnes with fruit or flowers, now forms 
a wide field of labor for artistic taste and 
skill. Hostesses in the season vie with 
each other as to whose table shall be the 
most elegant, and are ready to spend 
almost, if not quite, as much upon the 
flowers as upon the dinner itself, employ¬ 
ing for the floral arrangement people 
who devote their time to this pleasant 
Center Bowl. occupation. Home decoration is prac¬ 

tised by those who have the time, which 
very fashionable people can rarely spare, for its accomplishment, and we 
can imagine no household duty more attractive to the ladies of the 
house than that of making their tables beautiful with the exquisite 
floral produce of the different seasons, exercising their taste in 
devising new ways for employing the materials at their command. 
Young people should have the taste for arranging flowers encouraged, 
and be allowed to assist in the table decorations. 

Where expense and time are an object, both can be saved by 

employing delicate-looking ferns and other plants for table use, 

for so many lovely receptacles are made for them of china and 

glass that they look in many cases as pretty as flowers, in fact, prettier 

than flowers, unless the latter be most tastefully arranged. On page 

318 will be found illustrated three stands for holding ferns, the large, 

low one of which is suitable for a center piece, and the two others, the 

317 

















ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


3'8 



China Shell Vase. 


shells, for corners. Maiden-hair would look, perhaps, prettier in these 
than the ferns with which they are filled, but it would not stand the 

heat so well. Such vases as these, being more 
often than not of pure white china, look well 
placed upon a dessert center cloth of richly 
tinted plush or velvet, chosen in harmony with 
the dinner-service to be used. Of such vases 
as these for a small table four corners and a 
center one might be sufficient. On a larger 
and rather long table, three vases, at least, 
would be needed to q-o down the center and 

o 

two on either side, thus outlining the shape of 
the table with the flower- stands. The stands 
for plants may be of any material. Although 
not so new as some of the other designs, the 
rustic glass stands, lined with plate glass, are 
extremely pretty. Other pretty small plant, or fern vases, may be 
had of terra cotta and colored china. 

Flowers for decoration should be those which are not very 
strongly scented. To some the perfume of such flowers as gardenias, 
stephanotis, hyacinths and others is not offensive, but to others the 
strong scent in a heated room, especially during dinner, is not to be 
borne. Otherwise, there is no dictating what the flowers should be. 
It is well to avoid many colors in one 
decoration, for, even if well grouped, they 
are seldom as effective as one or two 
mixed with white and green. It is a 
fashion to have a single color for a din¬ 
ner-table decoration, this being often 
chosen of the same tint as the hostess’ 
dress or the hangings of the room, though 
these are sometimes varied to suit the 
flowers. Again, all white flowers are very 
often employed, relieved by plenty of 
foliage. 

If there are vases of all kinds to 
select from, then almost any kind of 

flower can be used, but few people have many sets for dinner-table 
decorations. Some prefer low decorations, others high ones, but 
there is one rule that should always be in force, and that is, that the 



Nautilus Stand. 









TABLE DECORATIONS. 


3'9 




Rustic Fern Stand. 


flowers and their receptacles should never interfere with the line of 
vision, but be above or below it. The great objection to the epergnes 
of olden days was that they hid the guests from one another. 

If the vases be colored ones, of glass 
or china, let the flowers, if they cannot be 
had of a corresponding tone, be white 
only, mixed with foliage. If the vases be 
of white china, use colored flowers. If 
they are high stands, use those flowers 
which are naturally of high growth, with 
long stems; if low, the reverse. Roses 
look always best in low stands or bowls, or 
in specimen tubes where only a single 
flower is placed. 

Small flower stands are preferred by many people to large ones, 
as it is so easy to arrange a few 
blooms, the vase itself lending 
beauty, while some care and 
much more taste is needed to 
make the larger ones look pretty. 

There is nothing which adds to 
the homelike appearance of a 
room so much as flowers, and 
nothing else repays so boun¬ 
teously the care bestowed upon 
them by the fair mistress of the 

i ill Rustic Glass Basket. 

household. 


Fairy lamps of different kinds, being a 
cheap and easy mode of decoration, find favor 
with many, but, for ourselves, we prefer no 
light, however faint, below the line of vision. 
The colored flower ones, shaped as roses or 
tulips are the prettiest, the single blossom 
standing out from the foliage which should 
surround it, while others, such as the one. in 
this illustration, have receptacles for flowers at 
their base. 

Arrangement of Flowers. — We have 
Cactus Vase. said that effect is marred in the arrangement 

of beautiful flowers by too many colors being introduced. It is equally 






















































320 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 







so by too many flowers being- used. Each flower should have room 
to stand out, although it may be partially veiled by delicate wavy 

grasses or fern 
fronds, and each 
flower should be 
put in in the way 
it grows. If hang¬ 
ing ones be used, 
let them hang, if 
they naturally 
stand upright, let 


Fairy Lamp with Flowers. 


Fairy Lamp. 


Tinted Flower Pot. 


Nautilus Shell. 


Bowl for Roses. 


them be so placed 
as to look natural. The only flowers that look less pretty growing than 
w hen cut are, per¬ 
haps, orchids, but 
these must be most 
carefully handled, 
and put into the 
vases as they would 
be if upon the 
plant. They are 
costly, it is true, but 
no flowers are better 

for dinner-table decorations, as they are generally scentless, and they 
live so long when cut. 

Inexpensive Decorations. —Times were when people living in 
town, could not afford flowers, and the dwellers in country places, if 

they did not grow them, 
could not obtain them, but 
now things have changed. 

The demand has brought 
the supply ; we must have 
plenty of flowers, and at 
the city markets they can 
be bought very cheaply, 
while out of town florists 
and nurserymen flourish 
everywhere. 

But if economy is an object, it is easy enough to have flowers for 
nothing in the country. What prettier ornaments can we find for our 


Hanging Vase. 


Tinted Glass Vase. 


































TABLE DECORATIONS. 32 I 

table in spring than the wild flowers of that season, specially prim¬ 
roses and cowslips. In summer, what more cool and refreshing than 

water-lilies and grasses. In autumn, what grand 
effects can be produced with the richly-tinted foli¬ 
age and berries of that season. While, even in 
winter, really beautiful effects can be produced with 
fresh dark evergreen leaves, 
mingled with golden bracken 
dried and pressed. 

Foliage decoration is, if 
well and artistically done, 
one of the most lovely. It 
commends itself for vases of 
colored glass, or for white 
china stands set upon crim- 

Bohemian Glass Vase. 11 , * 

son plush centers. As many 
white leaves as can be found should be chosen, 
and light feathery grass (real, not dyed ones), 
should be introduced. Hot-house foliage varies 
from white to almost black, and has so many 

tints of green that a pretty effect is easily gained when tasteful hands 
carry out the decorating. Palms can be also used and made to form 
very pretty centers on dinner-tables, if the pot is hidden by moss, 
and covered with flowers and foliage. 

Round it are grouped eight tall, slender glass vases filled with 
flowers, while to each person is a small specimen tube and finger-glass 

combined, like that shown on this page. The 
flowers on this table being nearly all white, they 
are arranged upon a dessert center of rich crim¬ 
son plush, fringed with 
tastefully strewn leaves. 

Specimen Tubes.— 

When plants are used 
for the main decoration, 
it looks well to put a tiny 
vase to each person con¬ 
taining a flower and a 
little foliage. The one 
illustrated above is in 
one with a finger glass, floating upon the water, in which are some 




Finder Bowl and Specimeu 
Tube. 




21 






































3 22 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


small rose leaves and maiden hair fern, the vine containing a single 
rose and bud, with its own foliage and some maiden hair. 

Dessert Centers, as they are usually called, are particularly effec¬ 
tive on large tables. They may be made of any material and in any 
color, while plush is the most effective material. 

We have seen an old gold brocaded silk one look extremely well, 
with its fringe of myrtle and brown ivy leaves, and its tall, slender 
vases of yellow-tinted glass filled with crimson flowers and foliage, 
also a pale pink one, upon which the flowers are of two tones of the 
same color, with a good deal of white and green intermixed, the shades 
of the lamps being rose color. 


Dessert centers are more suitable for winter than summer decora¬ 
tion. Choose the flowers according to the season and center, if one 
is used. In summer, a cool effect is 
needed, and plenty of white and green 
should be found upon the table; while 
in winter it is pleasant to see bril¬ 
liantly colored flowers, that seem to 
give warmth as well as brightness to 
the tahle. 

Glasses through which the stem 
of the flowers can be seen, should be 
filled with water, but bowls or opaque 
stands can be filled with moss or 
sand, in which it is far easier to 
arrange the flowers than in water. 

Strewing. —This is an exceedingly pretty way of decorating the 
table, but it unfortunately happens sometimes, that the flowers wither 
or become disarranged. It is necessary to choose such flowers and 
foliage as will bear heat and lie without water for a time for this pur¬ 
pose. Ivy leaves come in here well, as do also myrtle and French 
fern, and fuliage generally looks better alone than with flowers, par¬ 
ticularly for a border for a dessert center. 



Tripod Fairy Lamps. 


A Decoration for each Season — Spring. —An oval center of daf¬ 
fodil velvet, three crocus weddeliana palms, the center one a trifle higher 
than the others, placed down this; at each base, moss, different colored 
foliage and fern; at each side, between the palms, two slender vases hold¬ 
ing daffodils and fern, similar vases of smaller sizes set before each 
person, holding a few lilies of the valley and some Neapolitan violets 







TABLE DECORATIONS. 


323 


A Summer Decoration .—In the center, a small fountain falling 
over a base of water lilies, moss and fern, mixed with reeds and grass, 
round this six baskets of alternately pale pink and yellow roses. To 
each person, a single white rose and foliage, in a small globe. 

An Autumn Decoration .—In the center, a tall grass-like plant, 
with green and white leaves set in a lovely mass of autumn foliage, 
whose tints vary from the palest yellow to the deepest red, four smaller 
plants and vases to correspond, the table strewn in graceful, wreathy 
patterns, with burberis, brown ivy, myrtle, and mountain-ash berries. 

A Winter Decoration .—A crimson plush center, fringed with 
holly and other evergreen leaves. A set of white china vases filled 
with crimson, yellow and white chrysanthemums, and foliage. 

TABLE NAPKINS. 


NEW DESIGNS FOR THE FOLDING OF SERVIETTES. 


Cinderella’s Slipper. —First fold the napkin in three, then 
again once over to make it half the width, fold over at center and 
turn up the ends, next under at the dotted lines as in No. 1. 



Again fold over at dotted line shown in No. 1, on both sides. 
Turn up the ends as shown on the right of No. 3. 

Fold forward, bringing A A together, and stand the slipper as 
shown in No. 4. 



Fig. 4. Fig. 5 - FV 6 - 


The Calais Douvres. —First fold the napkin in three, and bring 
the two ends together as in No. 5. 











































































324 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


Next fold over at the dotted lines shown in No. 5, bringing the 
napkin into form shown in No. 6. 

Turn the napkin face downward, and fold back the sides as shown 
in No. 7. 

Lastly, bring a a together and stand up the boats as shown in 
No. 8. 



The Fan.— Lay the napkin fiat upon the table, and make a deep 
pleat at each side as in No. 9. 



Next fold the two sides together, as in No. 10. 

Next pleat from end to end in inch deep folds, backward and for¬ 
ward, as in No. 11. 

Then pinch down the folds in points between each fold as 
in No. 12. 



Fig- 13- 



The Cockscomb.— First fold the napkin in four as in No. 13. 
Next fold over the hemmed side to form a triangle as in No. 14. 


































































TABLE DECORATIONS. 


325 


Next raise the napkin at the dotted line in center, and fold up¬ 
ward the sides at the other dotted lines, turning in the ends as shown 
in No. 15. 

Lastly lift up each corner separately, and arrange as shown in 
No. 16. 



The Palm Leaf. —Fold the napkin diagonally across (No. 17). 
Next the two sides a short distance from the center (No. 18). 

Fold over the base at the dotted line shown in (No. 19). 

Lastly, pleat the base as a fan, and set it in a ring or glass 
(No. 20). 




Fig. 20. Fig. 21. 


The Sachet.— First fold the napkin in three, then turn the upper 
fold to the middle in a hem (No. 21). 



Fig. 22. 



Fig. 23. 



Fig. 24. 


Next fold over the napkin end to end, leaving the hem inside 
(No. 22). P'old from the outer edge over and over, repeating the same 
on the other side. Next fold back a in a diamond shown by dotted 
line (No. 23) on each side, and put the corners under the hem cross¬ 
ing the center (No. 24). 

























































326 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 




Cut and Engraved 
Claret J ug, 
Massive Mounts. 


Toast Rack, Butter Dish (cut glass), 
and Egg Frame combined. 


Biscuit, Butter and Cheese Stand, two compart¬ 
ments Gilt, and Glass Lining to Butter. 


Queen Anne Fluted Tea and Coffee Service, Ebony Handles and Knobs. 



Richly Fluted Full-size Hash or Breakfast 
Dish. 


Breakfast Dish, converts into three 
Dishes by simply removing the Handle 


Biscuit Box, oval shape 



Scuttle Sugar Basket, 
Gilt inside. 


Dinner Cruet, Cut Glass 
Bottles. 


Fern Pot, Richly Chased Sterling Silver Flower Holder, 
and Fluted. 

































































GENERAL SUGGESTIONS AS TO SOCIETY. 


MANNERS AND SOCIAL FORMS. 

Have sympathy and animation when you go out into society. 
Be cheerful and unselfish, and sustain the conversation in that vein, 
as it is quite as important as good manners. 

Good Talkers should have a fund of general information which 
can be easily acquired by good memory and an observing dis¬ 
position, assisted by reading up of favorite authors and subjects. 

Vulgarisms. —Avoid vulgarisms in language, making the con¬ 
versation as pure as possible, and free from all “ slang” phrases which 
are often used to forcibly emphasize when not at all required. 

Introductions. —The habit of universal introduction is some¬ 
times overdone, and should be avoided unless permission has been 
obtained, promiscuous introductions being at times very undesirable. 
Of course, at a ball or party, the host or hostess introduce their guests. 
If, by chance, they should be overlooked in a crowded assemblage, it 
is proper to introduce one another. 

Grace of manner and carriage can be easily acquired by every 
one by a little study and tuition of either a dancing master or an in¬ 
structor of physical training. Always be self-possessed under all cir¬ 
cumstances, no matter if at times annoying. Suppress undue emotion 
whether of laughter, anger, or mortification, or selfishness, as that is 
essentially a sign of good breeding. 

Listener. —To be a good listener is a mark of good breeding and 
an art in itself. Always endeavor to appear interested in what is 
being said. To manifest impatience is a sign of vulgarity. 

Accomplishments. —If you have any special accomplishment and 
are called upon to show it, do it with willingness and without undue 

anxiety. Waiting to be urged is “bad form.’ 1 

327 






328 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


Politeness. —Lord Chesterfield says : “As learning - , honor and 
virtue are absolutely necessary to gain you the esteem and admiration 
of mankind, politeness and good breeding are equally necessary to 
make you welcome and agreeable in conversation and common life. 
Great talents such as honor, virtue, learning and art are above the 
generality of the world who neither possess them themselves nor judge 
of them rightly in others. But all people are judges of the lesser 
talents, such as civility, affability, and an obliging, agreeable address 
and manner, because they feel the good effects of them, as making 
society easy and pleasing.” 

Good Name of Women. —“Civility,” says Chesterfield, is “partic¬ 
ularly due to all women, and remember, no provocation wnatsoever 
can justify any man in not being civil to every woman, and the 
greatest man would justly be reckoned a brute if he were not civil to 
the meanest woman. It is due to their sex, and is the only protection 
they have against our superior strength.” 

Privacy. —Never intrude on privacy in a room without knocking 
nor look over private correspondence or papers without permission. 

Engagements. —Always keep an engagement, and, if necessity 
finds you unable to do so, notify whom it is made with, so as to avoid 
disappointment. 

Personalities. —Avoid personal remarks and egotism. The use 
of the letter “ I ” too often is a vulgarism. 

Taking Leave of Host or Hostess. —In taking leave of a 
host or hostess, (in case of others being in the room) at a party or 
any other social gathering, call them quietly aside and bid them adieu 
without unnecessary “ fuss,” as it avoids breaking up the party by 
those who wish to leave early. 

MAXIMS OF GEORGE WASHINGTON. 

RULES OF CIVILITY AND DECENT BEHAVIOR IN COMPANY. 

Every action in company ought to be some sign of respect to 
those who are present. 

In presence of others sing not to yourself, nor drum with your 
fingers or your feet. 

Speak not when others speak. Sit not when others stand, and 
walk not when others stop. 

Turn not your back on others, especially in speaking. Jog not 
the table on which another reads or writes, lean not on any one. 




GENERAL SUGGESTIONS AS TO SOCIETY. 329 

Be no flatterer, neither play with any one that delights not to be 
played with. 

Read no letters, books, or papers in company. But when there 
is a necessity for doing it, you must ask leave. Come not near the 
books or writings of any one so as to read them unasked. Also, look 
not nigh when another is writing a letter. 

Let your countenance be pleasant, but in serious matters some¬ 
what grave. 

Show not yourself glad at the misfortune of another, though he 
were your enemy. 

They that are in dignity of office have in all places precedence. 
But whilst they are young, they ought to respect those that are their 
equals in birth or other qualities, though they have no public charge. 

It is good manners to prefer them to whom we speak before our¬ 
selves, especially if they be above us. 

Let your discourse with men of business be short and compre¬ 
hensive. 

In visiting the sick do not presently play the physician if you be 
not knowing therein. 

In writing or speaking give to every person his due, according to 
his degree and the custom of the place. 

Strive not with your superiors in argument, but always submit 
your judgment to others in modesty. 

Undertake not to teach your equal in the art he himself pro¬ 
fesses ; it savors of arrogance. 

When a man does all he can, though it succeeds not well, blame 
not him that did it. 

Being to advise or reprehend any one, consider whether it ought 
to be in public or in private, presently or at some other time, also in 
what terms to do it; and in reproving show no signs of choler, but do 
it with sweetness and mildness. 

Mock not nor jest at anything of importance; break no jests that 
are sharp or biting ; and if you deliver anything witty or pleasant, 
abstain from laughing thereat yourself. 

Wherein you reprove another be unblamable yourself, for example 
is more prevalent than precept. 

Use no reproachful language against any one, neither curses nor 
revilings. 

Be not hasty to believe flying reports to the disparagement of 
any one. 


330 


ART, SOCIETY ANI) ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


In your apparel be modest, and endeavor to accommodate nature 
rather than procure admiration. Keep to the fashion of your equals, 
such as are civil and orderly with respect to time and place. 

Play not the peacock, looking everywhere about you to see if you 
be well decked, if your shoes fit well, if your stockings set neatly, and 
clothes handsomely. 

Associate yourself with men of good quality if you esteem your 
reputation, for it is better to be alone than in bad company. 

Let your conversation be without malice or envy, for it is a sign 
of tractable and commendable nature ; and in all causes of passion 
admit reason to govern. 

Be not immodest in urging your friend to discover a secret. 

Utter not base and frivolous things amongst grown and learned 
men, nor very difficult questions or subjects amongst the ignorant, nor 
things hard to be believed. 

Speak not of doleful things in time of mirth, nor at the table. 
Speak not of melancholy things or death and wounds ; and if others 
mention them, change, if you can, the discourse. 

Tell not your dreams, but to your intimate friends. 

Break not a jest when none take pleasure in mirth. 

Laugh not aloud nor at all without occasion. 

Deride no man’s misfortune, though there seems to be some cause. 

Speak not injurious words, neither in jest nor earnest. 

Scoff not at none, although they give occasion. 

Be not forward, but friendly and courteous, the first to salute, 
hear and answer, and be not pensive when it is time to converse. 

Detract not from others, but neither be excessive in commendinp-. 

Go not thither where you know not whether you shall be welcome 
or not. 

Give not advice without being asked. And when desired, do it 
briefly. 

If two contend together, take not the part of either uncon¬ 
strained, and be not obstinate in your opinion ; in things indifferent, 
be on the major side. 

Reprehend not the imperfection of others, for that belono- s to 
parents, masters and superiors. 

Gaze not on the marks or blemishes of others, and ask not how 
they came, What you may speak in secret to your friend deliver 
not before others. 

Speak not in an unknown tongue before company, but in your 



GENERAL SUGGESTIONS AS TO SOCIETY. 331 

own language. And that as those of quality do, and not as the vul¬ 
gar. Sublime matters treat seriously. Think before you speak, pro¬ 
nounce not imperfectly, nor bring out your words too hastily, but 
orderly and distinctly. 

When another speaks be attentive yourself, and disturb not the 
audience. If any hesitate in his words, help him not nor prompt him 
without being desired ; interrupt him not, nor answer him till his 
speech is ended. 

Treat with men at fit times about business, and whisper not in 
the company of others. 

Make no comparisons ; and if any of the company be com¬ 
mended for any brave act of virtue, commend not another for the same. 

Be not apt to relate news if you know not the truth thereof. In 
discoursing of things that you have heard, name not your author 
always. A secret discover not. 

Be not curious to know the affairs of others, neither approach to 
those that speak.in private. 

Undertake not what you cannot perform ; but be careful to keep 
your promise. 

When you deliver a matter, do it without passion and indis¬ 
cretion, however mean the person may be you do it to. 

When your superiors talk to anybody, hear them ; neither speak 
nor laugh. 

In disputes be not so desirous to overcome as not to give liberty 
to each one to deliver his opinion, and submit to the judgment of the 
major part, especially if they are judges of the dispute. 

Be not tedious in discourse, make not many digressions, nor 
repeat often the same matter of discourse. 

Speak no evil of the absent, for it is unjust. 

Be not angry at table, whatever happens; and if you have reason 
to be so, show it not; put on a cheerful countenance, especially if 
there be straneers, for good humor makes one dish a feast. 

Set not yourself at the upper end of the table; but if it be your 
due, or the master of the house will have it so, contend not, lest you 
should trouble the company. 

When you speak of God or his attributes, let it be seriously, in 
reverence and in honor, and obey your natural parents. 

Let your recreations be manful, not sinful. 

Labor to keep alive in your breast that little spark of celestial 
fire called conscience. 


TOASTS AND SENTIMENTS. 


AMATORY. 

American belles and American fashions. 

Laughing lovers to merry maids. 

Love and opportunity. 

Love’s slavery. 

Love without licentiousness, and pleasure without excess. 

Love, liberty and length of blissful days. 

Love without fear, and life without care. 

Love for one. 

Life, love, liberty and true friendship. 

Love in every breast, liberty in every heart, and learning in every 
head. 

Love at liberty, and liberty in love. 

Love ; may it never make a wise man play the fool. 

Artless love and disinterested friendship. 

All that love can give, and sensibility enjoy. 

A speedy union to every lad and lass. 

Beauty’s best companion—Modesty. 

Beauty, innocence and modest merit. 

Beamy without affectation, and virtue without deceit. 

Community of goods, unity of hearts, nobility of sentiment, and truth 
of feeling to the lovers of the fair sex. 

Charms to strike the sight, and merit to win the heart. 

Constancy in love, and sincerity in friendship. 

H ere’s a health to the maid that is constant and kind. 

Who to charms bright as Venus’ adds Diana’s mind. 

I’ll toast America’s daughters—let all fill their glasses— 

Whose beauty and virtue the whole world’s surpasses ; 

332 







TOASTS AND SENTIMENTS. 


333 


May blessings attend them, go wherever they will, 

And foul fall the man that e’er offers them ill. 

Love without deceit, and matrimony without regret. 

Love’s garlands ; may they ever entwine the brows of every true¬ 
hearted lover. 

Lovely woman—man’s best and dearest gift of life. 

Love to one, friendship to a few, and good-will to all. 

Long life, pure love, and boundless liberty. 

May love and reason be friends, and beauty and prudence marry. 

May the lovers of the fair sex never want the means to defend them. 
May the sparks of love brighten into a flame. 

May the joys of the fair give pleasure to the heart. 

May we be loved by those whom we love. 

May we kiss whom we please, and please whom we kiss. 

May the bud of affection be ripened by the sunshine of sincerity. 
May a virtuous offspring succeed to mutual and honorable love. 

May the presence of the fair curb the licentious. 

May the confidence of love be rewarded with constancy in its object. 
May the honorable lover attain the object of his wishes. 

May the lovers of the fair be modest, faithful and,kind. 

May the wings of love never lose a feather. 

May the blush of conscious innocence ever deck the faces of the 
American fair. 

May the union of persons always be founded on that of hearts. 

May the generous heart ever meet a chaste mate. 

May the temper of our wives be suited to those of their husbands. 
May true passion never meet with a slight. 

May every woman have a protector, but not a tyrant. 

The Girl we Love.—When she is our toast, we don’t want any but her . 
May we find our wives to-nioTt where Cain found his—in the land of 
Nod. 

Harmony in all the States of the World.—Especially the married 
State. 

The Graces that every Man Desires.—The good graces of woman. 
The Best Union Bonds in the Market—Marriage certificates. 

BACCHANALIAN. 

May we act with reason when the bottle circulates. 

May good fortune resemble the bottle and bowl, 

And stand by the man who can’t stand by himself. 



334 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


May we never want wine, nor a friend to partake of it. 

May our love of the glass never make us forget decency. 

May the juice of the grape enliven each soul, 

And good-humor preside at the head of each bowl. 

May mirth exalt the feast. 

May we always get mellow with good wine. 

May the moments of mirth be regulated by the dial of reason. 
Champagne to our real friends, and real pain to our sham friends. 
Come, every man now give his toast— 

Fill up the glass—I’ll tell you mine ; 

Wine is the mistress I love most! 

This is my toast—now give me thine. 

Cheerfulness in our cups, content in our minds, and competence in 
our pockets. 

Come, fill the glass and drain the bowl, 

May Love and Bacchus still agree ; 

And every American warm his soul 
With Cupid, Wine and Liberty. 

Good-humor ; and may it ever smile at our board. 

Full bags, a fresh bottle and a beauty. 

Good wine and good company to the lovers resemble enjoyment. 

A friend and a bottle to give him. 

A hearty supper, a good bottle and a soft bed to every man who fights 
the battles of his country. 

A full purse, a fresh bottle, and a beautiful face. 

A full bottle and a friend to partake of it; 

A drop of good stuff, and a snug social party, 

To spend a dull evening, gay, social and hearty, 

A mirth-inspiring bowl. 

A full belly, a heavy purse and a light heart. 

A bottle at night and business in the morning. 

Beauty, wit and wine. 

Clean glasses and old corks. 

Wine ; may it be our spur as we ride over the bad roads of life. 

While we enjoy ourselves over the bottle, may we never drive pru¬ 
dence out of the room. 

Wine—for there’s no medicine like it. 

Wine—the parent of friendship, composer of strife, 

The soother of sorrow, the blessing of life. 

Wine, the bond that cemehts the warm heart to a friend. 




TOASTS AND SENTIMENTS. 


335 


Wine, Wit and Wisdom—Wine enough to sharpen wit; wit enough 
to give zest to wine; wisdom enough to “shut down” at 
the right moment. 

The Latch Key.—May it never open the door to reproach. 

May we never lose our taste for any of the sweets of life—es¬ 
pecially lasses. 

The First Duty of Bachelors.—To ring the city belles. 

Success to all parties that, like this party, are founded on friendship, 
harmony and hospitality. 

The Best of all Revolvers.—The bottle as it goes round. 


COMIC. 

May the tax-gatherer be forgiven in another world. 

To the early bird that catches the worm. 

To the bird in the hand that is worth two in the bush. 

The land we live in ; may he who doesn’t like it leave it. 

The three great Generals in power—General Peace, General Plenty 
and General Satisfaction. 

May the parched pea never jump out of the frying-pan into the fire. 
The three R’s : Reading, ’Riting, and ‘’Rithmetic. 

May evil communications never corrupt good manners. 

May the celebrated pin a day, of which we have heard so much, 
always make the groat a year. 

May the groat a year never be unwisely invested in a Joint-Stock 
Company. 

May that man never grow fat. 

Who carries two faces under one hat. 

Here’s to the best physicians—Dr. Diet, Dr. Quiet, and Dr. Merry- 
man. 

Here’s to the feast that has plenty of meat and very little tablecloth. 
Here’s to the full purse that never lacks friends. 

May fools make feasts, and wise men eat them. 

Here’s to the man who never lets his tongue cut his own throat. 
Here’s to the man who never quarrels with his bread and butter. 
Here’s to the man who never looks a gift horse in the mouth. 
Here’s to the old bird that is not to be caught with chaff. 

The equilibrium of State, may it always be preserved. 

Judicious reforms and reformers. 

The universal advancement of the arts and sciences. 

May the dispensers of justice ever be impartial. 







336 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


May the worth of the nation be ever inestimable. 

May taxation be lessened annually. 

May the sword of justice be swayed by the hand of mercy. 

May the seeds of dissension never find growth in the soil of America. 
May the love of country be imprinted in every American’s breast. 
Liberty, not license. 

Confusion to all men who desert their party. 

Party ties before all other ties. 

A lasting cement to all contending powers. 

The protectors of commerce and the promoters of charity. 

A revision of the code of criminal laws. 

ENGLISH. 

England, home and beauty. 

English oak and British valor. 

o 

England forever; the land we live in. 

England, Scotland and Ireland ; may their union remain undisturbed 
by plots or treachery to the end of time. 

England, the queen of the isles and the queen of the main. 

May old England’s sons, the Americans, never forget their mother. 

IRISH. 

A high post to the enemies of Ould Ireland. 

Erin, the land of the brave and the bold. 

Ireland; sympathy for her wrongs, and a determination to redress 
them. 

The country that gave St. Patrick birth, the birthplace of wit, and 
hospitality’s home—dear Ould Ireland. 

May Ireland be ever equally distinguished by her love of liberty and 
true patriotism. 

May the enemies of Ireland never meet a friend. 

Justice to Ireland. 

Grattan and the Volunteers of ’82. 

SCOTCH. 

A health to the friends of Caledonia. 

Caledonia, the nursery of learning and the birthplace of heroes. 
Scotland, and the productions of its soil. 

Scottish heroes, and may their fame live forever. 

Scotland, the birthplace of valor, the country of worth. 



TOASTS AND SENTIMENTS. 


337 


The Oueen and the Scottish Union. 

The nobles of Caledonia and their ladies. 

To the memory of Scottish heroines. 

The Rose, Thistle and Shamrock ; may they flourish by the common 
graft of union. 

To the memory of Scotland’s heroes. 

To the memory of those who have gloriously fallen in the noble strug¬ 
gle for independence. 


DEMOCRATIC. 

Annihilation to trade of corruption. 

Addition to our trade, multiplication to our manufactures, subtraction 
to taxes, and reduction to places and pensions. 

All the honest reformers of our country. 

America ; may the land of our nativity ever be the abode of freedom, 
and the birthplace of heroes. 

America’s annals ; may they never suffer a moral or political blot. 

Confusion to those who barter the cause of their country for sordid gain. 

Confusion to those who, wearing the mask of patriotism, pull it off 
and desert the cause of liberty in the hour of trial. 

Confusion to those despots who combine against the liberties of man¬ 
kind. 

Disappointment to all those who form expectations of places and pen¬ 
sions on the ruin of their country. 

Everlasting life to the man who gave the death-blow to the slave- 
trade. 

Community, unity, navigation and trade. 

Faith in every kind of commerce. 

Freedom to the oppressed, and slavery to the oppressors. 

Freedom to all who dare contend for it. 

Oblivion to all party rage. 

Humanity to all credited beings, especially to our own species, 
whether black or white. 

No party except mankind. 

May the meanest American scorn the highest slave. 

May every succeeding century maintain the principles of the glorious 
Revolution, enjoy the blessings of them, and transmit them to 
future ages unimpaired and improved. 

May the whole universe be incorporated in one city, and every in¬ 
habitant presented with the freedom. 


22 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


338 

May freedom’s fair take new birth at the grave of liberty. 

May our country be, as it has ever been, a secure asylum to the un¬ 
fortunate and oppressed. 

High wages, and sense to keep them. 

May the freedom of election be preserved, the trial by jury main¬ 
tained, and the liberty of the press secured to the latest pos¬ 
terity. 

May the tree of liberty flourish round the globe, and every human 
being partake of the fruits. 

May truth and liberty prevail throughout the world. 

May all partial and impolitic taxes be abolished. 

May the sons of liberty marry the daughters of virtue. 

May Americans never suffer invasion, nor invade the rights of 
others. 

May the miseries of war be banished from all enlightened nations. 
May our trade and manufactures be unrestrained by the fetters of 
monopoly. 

May the whole world become more enlightened and civilized. 

May revolutions never cease while tyranny exists. 

Our constitution as settled at the Revolution. 

The majesty of the people of America. 

The memory of our brave ancestors who brought about the Revolu¬ 
tion, and may a similar spirit actuate their descendants. 

The sacred decree of heaven—Let all mankind be free. 

The people—the only source of legitimate power. 

The subject of liberty and the liberty of the subject. 

The greatest happiness of the greatest number. 

May the nation that plots against another's liberty or prosperity, fall 
a victim to its own intrigues. 

LITERARY. 

Toleration and liberty of the press. 

The Fourth Estate. 

The liberty of the press, and success to its defenders. 

The Press ; the great bulwark of our liberties, and may it ever remain 
unshackled. 

The glorious literature of America. 

The glorious literature of Scotland. 

The glorious literature of Ireland. 

The glorious literature of England. 



TOASTS AND SENTIMENTS. 


339 


LOYAL. 

% 

A lasting peace or an honorable war. 

A health to our patriots. 

Agriculture and its improvers. 

All societies associated for promoting the happiness of the human 
race. 

All the charitable institutions of the United States. 

American virtue ; may it always find a protector, but never need one. 
Holy pastors, honest magistrates, and humane rulers. 

Improvement to the inventions of our country. 

Improvement to our arts, and invention to our artists. 

May the sword of Justice be swayed by the hand of Mercy. 

May the love of country always prevail. 

May our sons be honest and fair, and our daughters modest 
and fair. 

May every American’s hand be ever hostile to tyranny. 

May our jurors ever possess sufficient courage to uphold their verdict. 
May every American manfully withstand corruption. 

Our wives, our homes, our country. 

May every American manfully withstand tyranny. 

May the glory of America never cease to shine. 

May our hearts ever be possessed with the love of country. 

May the brave never want protection. 

May we ever honestly uphold our rights. ( 

May we never cease to deserve well of our country. 

May the liberties of the people be immortal. 

May the brow of the brave be adorned by the hand of beauty. 

May we never find danger lurking on the borders of security. 

May the laurels of America never be blighted. 

May all mankind make free to enjoy the blessings of liberty, but never 
take the liberty to subvert the principles of freedom. 

May Americas name and America’s fame stand forever pure, great 
and free. 

May every true American be possessed of peace, plenty and content. 
May every American act the patriot’s part. 

May victory spin the robe of glory for the brave, and fame enroll his 
deeds. 

May the laws never be misconstrued. 

May the weight of our taxes never bend the back of our credit. 


340 ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 

MILITARY. 

To the memory of Washington and all like him. 

May the enemy’s flag be surmounted by the American standard. 

May the arms borne by a soldier never be used in a bad cause. 

May American soldiers fight to protect, and conquer to save. 

May the gifts of fortune never cause us to steer out of our lat¬ 
itude. 

May the brow of the brave never want a wreath of laurel to 
adorn it. 

May the brave soldier who never turned his back to the enemy, never 
have a friend turn his back to him. 

May bronze and medals not be the only reward of the brave. 

May the laurels of America never be blighted. 

May all weapons of war be used for warlike purpose only. 

May a soldier never fall a sacrifice but to glory. 

To the memory of all brave soldiers who fall in defence of their 
country. 

NAVAL. 

May our iron-clads do as much as our brave old oaks. 

May rudders govern and ships obey. 

May no true son of Neptune ever flinch from his gun. 

May no son of the ocean ever be devoured by his mother. 

May our navy never know defeat, but by name. 

May our officers and tars be valiant and brave. 

Success to the fair for manning the navy. 

May gales of prosperity waft us to the port of happiness. 

May the pilot of reason guide us to the harbor of rest. 

May the memory of the noble Farragut inspire every seaman to do 
his duty. 

May the tar who loses one eye in defence of his country, never see 
distress with the other. 

The heart of a sailor ; may it be like heart of oak. 

Though our bold tars are fortune’s sport, may they ever be fortune’s 
care. 

The flag of America ; may it ever brave the battle and the breeze. 
The sea, the rough sea, the open sea; may our lives be spent 
upon it. 

The sea, the sleepless guardian of the world. 

Safe arrivals to our homeward and outward bound fleets. 





TOASTS AND SENTIMENTS. 


341 


RELIGIOUS. 

The friends of religion, liberty and science in every part of the globe. 
The honest reformers of our laws and religion. 

The friends of religious toleration, whether they are within or without 
the Establishment. 


SENTIMENTAL. 

May we ever have a sufficiency for ourselves, and a trifle to spare for 
our friends. 

May we always look forward to better times, but never be discontented 
with the present. 

May the miseries of war never more have existence in the world. 

May the wing of friendship never moult a feather. 

May our artists never be forced into artifice to gain applause and 
fortune. 

May solid honor soon take place of seeming religion. 

May our thoughts never mislead our judgment. 

May filial piety ever be the result of a religious education. 

May real merit meet reward, and pretension its punishment. 

May prosperity never make us arrogant, nor adversity, mean. 

May we live happy and die in peace with all mankind. 

May the unsuspecting man never be deceived. 

May noise and nonsense be ever banished from social company. 

May the faults of our neighbors be dim, and their virtues glaring. 

May industry always be the favorite of Fortune. 

May the rich be charitable, and the poor grateful. 

May the misfortunes of others be always examined at the chart of our 
own conduct. 

May we never be so base as to envy the happiness of another. 

May we live to learn, and learn to live well. 

May we be more ready to correct our own faults, than to publish the 
faults of others. 

May we never hurt our neighbor’s peace by the desire of appearing 
witty. 

Modesty in our dis:ourse, moderation in our wishes, and mutuality in 
our affections. 

May we never envy those who are happy, but strive to imitate 
them. 

May we derive amusement from business, and improvement from 
pleasure. 


342 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


May our faults be written on the seashore, and every good action 
prove a wave to wash them out. 

May virtue find fortune always an attendant. 

May we never repine at our condition, nor be depressed by pov¬ 
erty. 

May reality strengthen the joys of imagination. 

May we never make a sword of our tongue to wound a good mans 
reputation. 

May our distinguishing mark be merit rather than money. 

A total abolition of the slave-trade. 

A heart to glow for others’ good. 

A heart to feel, and a heart to give. 

A period to the sorrows of an ingenuous mind. 

A health to our sweethearts, our friends, and our wives, 

May fortune smile on them the rest of their lives. 

May genius and merit never want a friend. 

Adam’s ale ; and may so pure an element always be at hand. 

All that gives us pleasure. 

All our wants and wishes. 

All our absent friends on land and sea. 

An honest guide, and a good pilot. 

As we bind so may we find. 

As we travel through life may we live well on the road. 

May truth and liberty prevail throughout the world. 

May we never engage in a bad cause, and never fly from a good 
one. 

May the fruits of America’s soil never be denied to her children. 

SPORTING. 

May the lovers of the chase never want the comforts of life. 

The clear-sighted sportsman that sees his game with one eye. 

The steady sportsman that always brings down his game. 

The beagle that runs by nose and not by sight. 

The jolly sportsman that never beats about the bush. 

The joys of angling. 

May the pleasures of sportsmen never know an end. 

May we always gain fresh vigor from the joys of the chase. 

May the sportsman’s day be spent in pleasure. 

May strength the sportsman’s nerves in vigor brace, 


TOASTS AND SENTIMENTS. 


343 


May cruelty ne’er stain with foul disgrace, 

The well-earned pleasures of the chase. 

May the love of the chase never interrupt our attention to the welfare 
of our country. 

May every sport prove as innocent as that of the field. 

May those who love the crack of the whip never want a brush to 
pursue. • 

May the heart of a sportsman never know affliction but by name. 





LETTERS OF SOCIAL FORMS. 


The following are the usual forms of dinner, evening party, and 
wedding invitations, etc. 

INVITATION TO DINNER. 

Mr. and Mrs. James Spencer request the pleasure of Mr. and 
Mrs. George Dalrymple s company at dinner , on Thursday evening , 
October 29, at eight o'clock. 

26 West Tenth St.. Oct. 20th. 


INVITATION TO EVENING PARTY. 

Mr. and Mrs. J. G. Chalmers request the pleasure of your 
company Friday evening , September eighteenth , Eighteen hundred 
and ninety-one. 


INVITATION TO WEDDING. 

Mrs. Thomas Leroy invites you to be present at the marriage 
of her daughter Lettie to Albert De Costa , Wednesday morning , 
October seventh , Eighteen hundred and ninety-one , at ten dclock, 
St. James Church , Wabash Avenue and Twenty-ninth Street, Chicago. 

The following card is inclosed: 

Please present this card at the Church. 

344 








LETTERS OF SOCIAL FORMS. 


345 


INVITATION TO WEDDING RECEPTION. 

Mr. and Mrs. Henry Gillette desire the honor of your ■ presence 
at the marriage reception of their daughter Kate to Mr. Robt. B. 
Cornwall, Wednesday evening, October seventh, Eighteen hundred 
and ni?iety-one, from nine until eleven o'clock. 

2862 Vincennes Avenue, Chicago. 


WEDDING NOTICES. 

S. P. Black 
Carey Preston 

Married Tuesday, August twenty-fifth, Eighteen hundred and ninety- 
one. Chicago. 

Or this, 

Samuel Eden 
Theresa Darling 

Married September fourteenth, Eighteen hundred and ninety-one, St. 
Joseph, Missouri. At Home after October first, Le Clair, Kansas. 


GOLDEN WEDDING INVITATION. 


184O. 


Golden Wedding. 


1890. 


Mr. and Mrs. H. A. Sweet will be pleased to welcome you at 
their Fiftieth Anniversary, Saturday afternoon, September tenth, 
Eighteen hundred and ninety, from two until six o'clock. 

Chicago, Illinois. No Presents. 


9 

\ 




346 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


SILVER WEDDING INVITATION. 

l866. 

Mr. and Mrs. Samuel C. Patterson request the pleasure of your 
company at the Twenty-fifth Anniversary of their marriage , Sat¬ 
urday evening , September fifths at eight o clock. 

Burlington , Iowa. 


WEDDING ANNIVERSARIES. 


First Anniversary, 

Cotton Wedding. 

Second 

< < 

- Paper “ 

Third 

<< 

Leather “ 

Fifth 

(( 

- Wooden “ 

Seventh 

it 

m m 

Woolen “ 

Tenth 

tc 

m 

- Tin 

Twelfth 

<t 

Silk and Fine Linen Weddi 

Fifteenth 

ct 

- Crystal Wedding. 

Twentieth 

11 

China “ 

Twenty-fifth 

11 

- Silver “ 

Thirtieth 

t ( 

Pearl “ 

Fortieth 

< 1 

- Ruby “ 

Fiftieth 

«< 

Golden “ 

Seventy-fifth 

<« 

- Diamond “ 



I 


LETTERS OF SOCIAL FORMS. 


347 


A gentleman’s carte de visile is smaller than that of a lady. 
The following are examples: 


Mr. George A. Robinson. 













FLOWERS ABOUT THE HOME. 


Where is the heart so dwarfed, so seared by care and cruel contact 
with a cruel world that it will not feel a thrill of tenderness at the 
sight and fragrance of fresh, blooming flowers ? 

They bring a breath of gladness, a song from the better world 
upon their sun-ward lips. What unspeakable messages speak to the 
fainting heart and anxious soul in the whispers of their odor! 

They are God’s messengers, fresh and dewy from the great un¬ 
known world, and are the seal of his divine pleasure upon the works 
of a toiling shrub or reedy stem, and that in our hearts which is 
loftiest, purest, most free from taint and strife and guile, and 
responds to their infinitesimally fine chord; and though the rare harps 
of our beings be sadly unstrung or strained with the coarse tones of 
life, a new strangely sweet sense of responsiveness swells into our 
bosom, and if we followed the deepest impulse of our desire we would 
stoop and bring the messenger very close to our lips and in a sigh 
which is more than words we would unconsciously cry out for that 
bng forgotten something for which we hoped, strived once, but it 
grew too far away, too ideal in the daily routine of toilsome life ; we 
forgot it until these flowers whispered of past yearnings, and stirred 
in its depths that sacred fire, now but a smoldering spark, and yet 
once had been the warm, genial beacon of our ambition. 

In the moment of supremest joy flowers lend a touch of the 
beautiful, the refined, the rarest, sweetest pleasure. The bride and 
her flowers become almost synonymous terms. The sweet-faced girl, 
untouched by affectation or frivolity is called a bud. The fairest 
tints upon the cheek of health is likened to rose bloom, the fairness is 
the lily, and so in all our brightest moods flowers add a spirit chime 
and lend their glowing presence with an enveloping wave of perfume 

348 



FLORAL MOUND,” LINCOLN PARK, CHICAGO, ILL. 

















































































































































































































































FLOWERS ABOUT THE HOME. 


349 


upon which the softest, tenderest words lie sweetly and urge us to 
enjoy the land which God has given us, the warmth in which they 
throve, the color which was kissed upon them, the free, buoyant air 
in which they swayed, laughed and coquetted while nature overjoyed 
in her labor of love, completed the task and reveled in the marvels of 
beauty which every moment spread before her. 

What so cheering to those in illness or distress as flowers? The 
tired eyes of the sufferers gaze upon them and a flush of new hopes 
surge into their aching hearts. Children and flowers, oh, how much 
alike they are; how the former love the latter and in an indescribable 
manner are associated together, for children and flowers are the 
ornaments of the home. 

Yet how few of us know how to cultivate these harbingers of 
nature. Many of the most beautiful plants and shrubs can be 
brought to full perfection with but little care, if only the correct 
methods are pursued. There are so many things to be considered, 
and the peculiar possibilities of each gem to be considered. The 
most hardy plants and bloomers require a certain amount of care 
and the requirements of each should be thoroughly understood. 

If you have a home, by all means have it surrounded by flowers. 
If you can do so, by all means have a conservatory, but if your space 
and means will not permit a large one, an ingenious woman will 
in some way contrive to have some portion of her home where 
flowers will thrive best, apportioned to their cultivation. A very 
small space can be converted into a perfect fairy bower, and with an 
addition of handsome gilded bird-cages is a place of joy and the spot 
around which the sweetest hours of the housewife clusters. 

Outside cultivation for many plants is far easier than the hot¬ 
house favorites, and of all outdoor bloomers the royal rose is queen of 
all. The varieties are each year more and more numerous and beauti¬ 
ful ; the florist’s art with each season advances new charm to this 
gorgeous pride of the garden, and for decoration these are rivaled 
by none. Perhaps for the latter purpose nothing is more popular and 
beautiful than the Duchess of Albany and her imperial sister, the 
American Beauty . These both require the tenderest care and atten¬ 
tion. The former is a hybrid tea of a rich pink color and very sweet. 
It is a profuse bloomer and very desirable and one of the handsomest 
for table and drawing-room purposes. 

The American Beauty is a gorgeous bloomer of a bright red 
hue, with thick petals and handsome leaves, with a rich, spicy odor. # 


350 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


The Esmeralda is a hybrid tea rose of very vigorous growth and 
a most profuse bloomer. The foliage is a light green in color and 
the flowers are flesh, shaded with fawn. It is a marvel of beauty 
when in bloom, and is a most popular variety. 

Madame Levette is a welcome guest for table decorations, 
especially with lacy ferns. It has petals of thick waxen texture, 
gracefully turned and glossy. It is odorless. 

Madame Hute is another so called feminine variety. It is a tea 
rose which, comparatively new to the general trade, has been planted 
in large quantities for supplying the market of New York and other 
cities, and in order to suit customers in the center of wealth and 
fashion. Only the best varieties are grown. Any rose that sells well 
there must be the possessor of unusual merit. This new claimant to 
popular favor has the exacting test. It is of very thrifty habit and 
under good care is seldom out of bloom all through the season. It 
is a soft, creamy yellow in color, and of fine form and most exquisite 
fragrance. 

Madame Welciie is an eager rival with her sister. It is a fine 
variety, a pale yellow in color, often darkening into a coppery tinge. 
It is large, double, and of a most beautiful form. 

Princess Beatrice is a rose of strong tea habit. Foliage very 
heavy, showing the dark tints peculiar to Sunset and Perle des Jardins. 
The flowers are produced on strong stems held well above the foliage. 
They are a bright red, shading to yellow, with rosy edges which roll 
back as soon as the flowers begin to open, showing the apricot tints 
of the next row of petals. It has the peculiar fragrance of the tea 
clan. This variety will be found very desirable for cutting, as it lasts 
well. 

Gloire De Margottin; this is a fitting companion to Madame 
Hute, because of its individual beauty and strong contrast in color. 
It is rich red, and most deliciously perfumed. The introducers claim 
that it will prove hardy. 

Souvenir De Wooton is a most superb rose. It is valuable for 
forcing, and for summer culture in the garden. The color is a beauti¬ 
ful shade of carmine, very rich and brilliant. Its fragrance is most 
delicious. 

Meteor; this variety was introduced two or three years ago, and 
became popular at once, and it fully deserves the recognition which 
was accorded it. It is a most intense dark crimson, with velvety text¬ 
ure petals quite unusual in this class of roses. It is literally an ever- 


FLOWERS ABOUT THE HOME. 



35 1 

bloomer. For cutting and corsage decorations it is unexcelled; it will 
prove a formidable rival of General Jacqueminot, and any rose that 
can do this must have merit in a very unusual degree. 

Luciole, a tea of French origin. In color a carmine rose, shaded 
with saffron and copper yellow in such combination as to make the 
expanded flower resemble a ripe peach. Buds large and pointed. It 
has a heavy perfume. 

Papa Goutin is a most lovely tea rose of largest size, with petals 
of thick and heavy texture. Dark carmine—crimson shading into 
rosy crimson at center. One peculiarity of this rose which will help to 
make it popular, is that it lights up charmingly at night, while many 
roses which are gorgeous by day do not stand the effect of gas or 
lamplight satisfactorily. It sold in immense quantities last winter, and 
brought extra prices. While fine for forcing it will be found quite as 
fine for garden in summer. 

Madame Schwaller is a hybrid tea, having the delicious sweet¬ 
ness of La France, the size and texture of petal, common to the hybrid 
perpetuals, and the freedom of flowering peculiar to the tea class. It 
will be seen that this variety includes in a remarkable degree the 
strongest points of merit common to general classes to which it owes 
its parentage. Rosy flush in color, deepening outward from the heart 
—something peculiar, most roses growing darker toward the center 
of the flower. 

No garden, Eben Rexford says, is complete unless it includes 

some of the standard varieties of ever-blooming roses. Young plants 

procured in spring will soon come into bloom, if proper care is given 

them, and they will continue until the heavy frost comes. Nothing 

* 

finer to be cut from can be ofrown. Flowers can be had from them dur- 
ing the entire season for use on the table, for the corsage or the 
buttonhole. 

The cost, he goes on to state, is slight, as so many growers have 
gone into the cultivation of them that competition reduces the price 
and even the choicest sorts are within reach of almost every lover of 
flowers. 

For a rose bed, two dozen plants will answer abundantly, and 
will furnish hundreds of flowers during the season. This number of 
plants can be bought of many dealers for seventy-five cents, and several 
sell the choicest new sorts for fifty cents a dozen. It is not necessary 
however, to invest in the newer and more expensive varieties in order 


352 ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 

to secure fine flowers, for many of the older sorts are quite as desirable 
aa those of recent introduction. Among them I would suggest: 

Adam, bright carmine pink, very sweet. 

Andre Swartz, rich dusk, velvety crimson. 

Cornelia Cook, white, magnificent in bud. 

Catherine Mermet, an old favorite, pink and very fragrant. 

Douglas, cherry red. 

Duchess de Brabant, rosy flush, changingto deep rose. 

Charles Rovolli, carmine. 

Appoline, rose, shading to soft pink, a magnificent selection. 

Perle des Jardins, one of the best yellow roses, quite as beautiful 
though not as large as the Marechal Niel, for which it is often sold. 
No collection complete without it. A great bloomer and very fra¬ 
grant. 

Sunset, a peculiar rose, having combinations of many tints and 
colors in it. Yellow, shading to copper, with fawn reflection on many 
petals, deepening to apricot, or fading into creamy tints. Deliciously 
fragrant, a free bloomer and a strong and healthy grower. 

Hermosa, one of the old “stand-bys,” profuse flowering, constant, 
easily grown and beautiful. Not very large, but of fine form and very 
double, color, soft rose. 

Most of the above described roses are tender and will require the 
protection of the cellar in winter. It would not be safe to leave them 
out of doors at the North, even with good protection, in case of a 
severe winter, though, in ordinary seasons, some of them would 
doubtless come through in good condition. If one does not care to 
put much labor on them, it would be well to experiment with them by 
covering the plants where they stand in the garden, with at least a 
foot of leaves. In spring, the old branches will be found to be dead, 
but after these are cut off, strong young shoots will perhaps start 
about the crown of the plant. The trouble of giving such protection 
is not much and you may succeed in bringing the plant through, in 
which case you are amply repaid for all your labor. 

Roses always bring ferns to the mind as for cutting purposes 
they combine so perfectly, and, what is more beautiful on a fern 
frond ? Whether it be that of tropical thickness, humid with the 
dewy moss in which it throve, or with stems fine and frail as the 
streaming hair of the Indian maid who died for love’s sake, and over 
whose grave these delicate beauties came, to mourn her love and 
perpetuate her memory. 


FLORAL GLOBE,” WASHINGTON PARK, CHICAGO, ILL. 





























































































„ 














' 






























































FLOWERS ABOUT THE HOME. 


353 


There are numberless varieties of ferns, each with striking 

o 

characteristics of appearance. In most places where blooming plants 
may grow, ferns too will be of easy cultivation. 

The way florists raise ferns from dust is interesting. There is no 
difficulty in propagation from the creeping stalks set into a sand 
bath, and it can be easily raised from its dust-like spores that in all 
classes of ferns and other cryptogamous plants take the place of 
seeds. On the back of most ferns, more rarely on a stem by them¬ 
selves are these little fruit-dots, so-called. The dust is so minute that 
no covering, as in ordinary seed, is permissible. A very small cover¬ 
ing would smother all growth. It is simply laid on the soil or small 
pieces of cork, broken pots, stones or moss broken into small pieces, 
and covered by glass inside the greenhouse so that a moist atmos¬ 
phere may always be present. Very shortly a greenish speck may be 
seen here and there, hardly visible to the naked eye, which gradually 
increases until the whole ground is covered and looks not unlike the 
green that is often seen in low, damp places. Presently little fine 
spears shoot up and in time begin to show a frondy nature. As soon 
as they can be handled the gardener replants these into fine soil, and 
before long they put on the characteristic of the kinds from which the 
spores may be made to produce countless thousands of its kind. 

To be a good greenhouse or house fern, each variety has some 
special attraction. This may be a singularly marked frond, a special 
manner of growth or beauty, great, massive tree-like growth, or 
availability for use as green material to work in among cut flowers. 

One of the most singular ferns is so named from the fronds 
spreading out so as to give a good representation of the horns of a 
stag, from which resemblance it derives its name, Slag's Horn. It is 
of tolerably easy growth, even as a window plant. It is a native of 
New Holland, and can be grown easily on blocks of wood, to which, 
after a little time, the plant clasps itself by an outgrowth each year 
overlapping the old. Prof. Meehan says of this: “ When flowering 
plants usually make seed, that is generally the last effort of plant life; 
the seed is beginning of the life of the new plant. Ferns, however, 
only produce spores for reproductive purposes. These spores expand 
when the germinating time comes, and form a flat green membrane; 
what are then really the flowers appear on this membrane. As a 
general rule, after these fern flowers have matured the membrane 
dries up and disappears. In one of the family of ferns, however, 
natives of New Holland, named platycerium, this green blade is per- 


23 


354 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


manent and continues to enlarge, becoming really a portion of the 
plant. Every year a new blade is formed, which spreads over the old 
ones. The large part of the plant is of a totally different character, 
having the fronds of ordinary ferns. This particular species is P. 
alcicorne } or as it is commonly known in cultivation, ‘‘the stag’s horn 
fern.” 

To get a plant started on a board take a little moss and lay the 
plant on flat and by means of a few tacks and small wire it can be 
held in place. As new growth proceeds the shield like clasps the 
board and from that time on will take care of itself. In rather warm 
greenhouses it grows to a great size. 

The hare’s foot fern is a native of the Canary Islands and has 
been in cultivation since 1699. Its botanic name is Davallia 
canariensis , the first name in honor of Edmund Davall, a Swiss 
botanist, the latter from its native country. The plant is quite in¬ 
teresting from its charming, airy fronds, as well as from the hare-foot¬ 
like creeping stalks. Although not generally a window subject it can 
be managed fairly well once the plant has some growth, but as a 
greenhouse fern it is easily handled. 

Saw ferns are interesting. They are called by botanists neph- 
rolepis from the kidney-shaped fruit dots on the back of the frond, 
by which most of the families of ferns are distinguished from each 
other. They go by the English name of saw ferns from a resem¬ 
blance of the fronds to a saw blade. A species called exaltata is now 
growing in the window of a lady on Fifth Avenue ; has done duty as 
a vase plant in summer. Vase and all were taken up in the fall and 
now the plant is a spreading fountain of green, five feet in 
diameter. 

The way it was managed was this: About the end of May half 
a dozen small plants were placed in a terra cotta vase one foot in 
diameter, surrounding a flowering plant of hydrangea. When the 
beauty of this center plant was gone, it was gradually cut away and 
the space left entirely to the fern. New fronds continued rising and 
falling over the sides of the vase until fall. The rose was then placed 
on a stand in the bay window, where it has continued to throw up new 
fronds to the present day. It is admired by all who see it, and it 
requires no attention save watering. Not even dead fronds have 
appeared so far. It also suits admirably to mix among other vase or 
basket plants. Florists have discovered this fact, and grow it in great 
quantities. 


FLOWERS ABOUT THE HOME. 


355 


It is on the maiden hair fern florists and greenhouse men depend 
for cutting delicate fronds, which are used as dressing among cut 
flowers. The kinds grown are mostly varieties called cuneatum and 
gracellimum, the latter a most cobwebby mass of green, so airy that 
the flowers can be nicely seen through it when hanging over them. 

In rich, moist woods throughout North America a beautiful kind 
called pedatum, or American maiden-hair, may be met with. As an 
outdoor fern, either growing wild or transplanted to some shady spot 
in the garden, it is a most charming object. It is of no use, however, 
for winter growth in the house. Its nature of going to sleep or rest 
in the fall and its fronds withering and decaying causes it to start 
fresh growth again with difficulty, except when spring comes, when it 
readily obeys nature’s call to life. 

Edgar Sanders goes on to say that ferns are well adapted to 
the vase or hanging basket. Some like the saw fern by themselves, 
or others to mix with foliage or flowering plants. One good 
arrangement is to have a central plant of red and green foliage 
dracaena and the rest of various families. While such a basket would 
not furnish gaudy flowers, its beautiful foliage is a constant source of 
interest and admiration. 

As a rule the great mass of ferns are shade-loving plants, or may 
be met with in different parts of the world about waterfalls, shady 
rocks and such places. 

After roses and ferns come a host of favorites contesting for 
favor in the home and for the toilette. Our space is too limited to 
go into lengthy detail for outdoor cultivation. Most of the hardy 
bloomers which make glad the garden in summer require but little 
scientific raising. Geranium, Heliotrope, Hydrangea, Pansies, Begonia, 
Fuchsia and all the customary outdoor bloomers are well enough in 
the fresh, free sunshine, invigorating breeze and generous showers, 
but to brine the same indoors, the order is reversed and the care 
is of another nature. 

If your means will allow you have some sort of a conservatory 
if indeed not more than an enlarged window seat. Build on the 
south side of the house. A small addition will be built at small ex¬ 
pense. Build a solid wall to the height of one foot. The rest of the 
walls and roof is of glass. Double glass is of course better; this you 
can have by using two sashes on the sides, and double glass in same 
sash on most of the top. To make a conservatory of twelve feet 
square, the expense of building is about sixty dollars, but including 


356 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


work, it would cost between one hundred and one hundred and ten 
dollars. Now, a few words about the plants and blossoms : Almost 
everything will bloom well; Geraniums and Heliotropes have been long 
recognized as good all-winter bloomers. Smilax will cover the west 
wall from floor to ceiling. Laurastinus and Azaleas are fine 
bloomers. Begonias begin their blooming very early in the fall. 
Among them are some very fine ones, the Glaucophylla scandens is 
the finest for its trailing habit and profusion of orange-colored blooms. 
The Incarnata is very handsome, it is called by some the Coral 
Begonia. The Goury also is very lovely with its pendants of pink. 
January is a good month for unearthing hyacinths, and they will bud 
beautifully by the following September. 

If your house is heated by steam, have the pipes arranged under 
slats in the floor, so that each particle of heat is saved, as it naturally 
rises all the time. 

There are cold days and nights when plant life requires especial 
care. Neglect of any kind is apt to prove fatal, and one half-hour of 
a too low temperature will be disastrous. 

An even temperature is essential for ordinary plants, which 
require about the same degree of heat. Some plants of course, will 
do well in a room where the temperature is not high, while others will 
require an exceedingly warm location and an even degree of heat. A 
little care in the way of fertilizing to force the bloom if slow, with the 
right temperature, plenty of water and moisture and proper ventila¬ 
tion, will usually accomplish the desired results. 

Plants, like people, require a large amount of nourishment, 
especially water. Do not water “ often and a little at a time;” plants 
often die of thirst under such treatment. Instead, make it a rule to 
water thoroughly and only when the soil looks dry on top. This, of 
course, applies only to such plants as are not by nature aquatic. 
Poinsettia will drop its foliage unless it is watered with extreme care. 
Care must be taken to keep it moist at the roots all the season, never 
using too much or too little water. Moist is the proper condition of 
the soil to aim at. In watering be very regular. Do not let the 
plants go for a day without it unless your conservatory connects well 
with other departments so there is a free, full current of air. Apply 
so much that there is enough to saturate the soil and some to run off 
through the hole in the bottom of the pot. In summer the soil will 
become so dry that frequently the plant suffers. 

The use of slaked lime on the soil in pots containing Ivy will 


FLOWERS ABOUT THE HOME. 


357 


materially benefit the plants, giving the foliage a brighter green, and 
the plants a stronger growth, 

Lime water is excellent to expel worms from soil of pot plants. 
Be sure that the lime is fresh, careful not to bake the soil. 

Plants grown from seeds will be found to sprout much more 
quickly if soaked in warm water for a few hours previous to planting. 
For all this it will be more satisfactory to the average woman with an 
ordinary amount of horticultural knowledge to buy plants already 
rooted and ready for transplanting from a florist, as the risks from non¬ 
sprouting and vexation of a failure to properly develop is thus saved. 

The question of transplanting is one for serious thought. Upon 
this important step depends much of the future of plant life. Each 
species has its own time for such a step, and all the tenderness pos¬ 
sible, with subsequent caution and care, are the points which will tell 
in the later development. 

The window garden is a most delightful cultivation, but cared for 
by women, as a home without flowers is bare and comfortless to all 
persons of taste and refinement. The beginner in plant culture 
should commence with common, hardy, robust-constituted plants, and 
if successful with them, which will assuredly be the case if real love 
for plants and flowers prompts their culture, the more valuable and 
tender kinds may be gradually added as opportunity occurs. One of 
the greatest mistakes made by beginners is that they commence with 
a host of rare and consequently valuable species before they under¬ 
stand the few simple rules necessary to insure successful treatment. 
Failure at first is apt to disappoint beginners in floriculture; not but 
experience of this kind is very instructive, and often teaches us far 
more than can possibly be learned from written directions alone. 

If you love beautiful flowers do not let imaginary difficulties 
deter you from attempting their culture. By growing flowers in our 
windows we contribute toward the education and refinement of society 
at large, we make our homes in the town not only happier, but more 
attractive to both ourselves and our children, and we are often led to 
form* habits of observation and study which ultimately prove of 
eminent service to us in after life. 

Plants of peculiar or disagreeable, however beautiful odor, should 
not be grown in rooms, but nearly all the flowers we love for their 
•freshness, sweetness and beauty, may be tolerated. 

The more we know about that mysteriously beneficial product, 
ozone, the stronger evidence do we obtain that it has much to do with 


358 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


the changes in human health, noticeable in different localities, and at 
various seasons. Hence the cultivation of many shrubs and plants, 
besides its economical or aesthetic value, has an agency connected 
with hygiene, for it has been demonstrated that a great many plants 
grown in gardens produce much ozone, not only in the influence of 
the sun’s rays, but even after dusk. Lavender, Wallflower, Thyme, 
Sweet Violets, and Mignonette, may be named as examples. 

There are but few houses where a charming little fernery might 
not be constructed for such plants as will luxuriate in partial shade. 
If a passage or corridor is terminated by a window from which a 
gloomy prospect is better veiled than disclosed, nothing can be more 
appropriate in such a position than a large glass case filled with ferns 
and other moisture-loving plants. The bottom can be readily 
cemented to prevent damp, and the whole will form a source of pleas¬ 
urable interest and beauty instead of annoyance. It will always 
supply fresh green fronds and spray for grouping with flowers, and 
requires but little attendance except occasional syringing with tepid 
water. 

Many are deterred from attempting window gardening because 
they imagine it will turn out a continual source of annoyance, 
instead of a pleasant occupation and amusement. 

It is best to avoid such exotics from tropical countries as can only 
be grown successfully in a hot plant store. This will only disappoint and 
dishearten the beginner in plant culture; and it is unnecessary to em¬ 
ploy them, since we have the flowers of temperate countries to select 
from, and these include hundreds of hardy and half-hardy shrubs, 
bulbs, annuals and herbaceous plants, that will not only exist, but grow 
vigorously and flower freely in the comparatively temperate atmos¬ 
phere of an ordinary apartment. 

All lovers of flowers must remember that one blossom allowed to 
mature or “go to seed” injures the plant more than a dozen buds. Cut 
your flowers, then, before they begin to fade. Adorn your room with 
them, put them on your tables; send them to your friends and shower 
the gladness of their presence wherever you can. Of course in the 
case of annuals, seed must be saved in order to propagate the species; 
but they flower all the longer and more profusely if only a limited 
number of seed pods is allowed to ripen. And the seed itself is of 
better quality. 

The dry atmosphere of ordinary apartments is not the best posi¬ 
tion for the growth of healthy plants, as the aridity induces excessive 


FLOWERS ABOUT THE HOME. 


359 


evaporation from the foliage. In the greenhouse this can be counter¬ 
acted by a frequent use of the syringe; and in practice it will be found 
an excellent plan to carry the plants outside once or twice a week 
during the summer months and either syringe or sprinkle them with a 
watering can thoroughly well, so as to remove all dust, insects, pests, 
and other impurities from their foliage. 

It is best always to commence with young plants, either seedlings 
or rooted cuttings as these gradually become inured to the fresh con¬ 
ditions in which they are placed, forming sturdy little specimens, full 
of vigorous growth. 

A nice arrangement for fixing inside the window, and by which the 
lookout is considerably improved. One consists of a simple window- 
box faced with enameled tiles, and furnished with neat semicircular 
wire trellis, over which to trail climbers. The box is planted with 
fresh green trailers and a few flowering plants, raised either from bulbs, 
seeds or cuttings, as the case may be. 

Propagation by seeds is nature’s great plan of reproduction in 
the vegetable world. 

Clean your pots or pans and dry them thoroughly. Now take 
some pieces of crocks, i. e. y broken flower pots, and placing a large 
convex piece over the hole at the bottom fill the pot half full of smaller* 
pieces; on these place a thin layer of turf or moss to prevent the soil 
from washing down in among the drainage. Fill the pot nearly level full 
of soil prepared as follows: Take a spadeful of good sweet garden 
soil or loam, half a spadeful of leaf mold, t. e., thoroughly rotten leaves. 
Mix these well together, and fill the pots as above recommended. Do 
not press the soil too firmly, especially if it is very moist, or it will set 
hard and dry in a solid mass. Smooth the surface by pressing it 
gently with a circular bit of board made for the purpose, with a nail 
or screw in the middle to serve as a handle. Now sow your seeds, 
scattering them equally over the surface, after which sprinkle a little 
fine sandy soil over them. The depth at which the seeds are buried 
depends on the size and strength of constitution. Very fine seeds 
as Primula or Calceolaria, are best not covered at all, a sheet of tiffany 
or brown paper being placed over them until they germinate, when it 
must be removed and a plate of window glass substituted, to give them 
all the light they require. Strong-growing kinds, as French Mari¬ 
golds, Sweet Peas, or Convolvulus, may be covered two or three 
inches deep without injury, though such a depth is not necessary. If 
a box is used, bore holes in the bottom to allow all superfluous water 


3 6 ° 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


to escape freely. Water before sowing, sprinkling when necessary 
with moderately moist soil. With small seeds it is impossible to water 
after sowing without disarranging them. In the case of tender seeds, 

O o o 

a depth of from a half to three-quarters of an inch should be left be¬ 
tween the soil and the top of the pot. This will allow of the pot’s 
being covered with a plate of ordinary window glass, a simple 
contrivance which greatly assists the cultivation by keeping them a 
few degrees warmer, and also preventing the soil from drying too 
rapidly by evaporation. As the seeds germinate the glass must be 
tilted with bit of a stick, or the plants may damp off through being 
in an atmosphere too close and humid. The above simple contrivance 
answers the purpose of a bell-glass until the seedlings attain a con¬ 
siderable size. 

Propagation by Cuttings is a simple, though artificial method, 
and answers well for a large proportion of the perennial plants grown 
in balconies and apartments. What are technically known to 
gardeners as “soft-wooded” plants are very easily “struck” from cuttings 
of the stems or branches. To this class Geraniums (Pelargoniums), 
Crysanthemums, Lobelias, Coleus, Fuchsias and other plants of a 
similar texture belong. “Hard-wooded” plants, as Camellias, 
Azaleas, Ericas (Heaths), and Epacris are much more difficult, at 
least to an ordinary window-cultivator. 

Nearly all cuttings are prepared in a similar manner. A young 
shoot is selected an inch or two in length, and its axis is severed just 
below a joint; a few of the lower leaves are also removed out of the 
way, using for the purpose a keen blade that will sever the tissues 
without bruising them. The length of the cutting depends upon the 
habit of the plant and the time of the year. For example, we will 
take the common India-rubber plant (Ficus Elastica). In the spring 
young branches a foot or more in length may be taken from an old 
plant, headed down the previous year. These strike readily, either in 
a Wardian case, under a common hand-li ght, or in a pot covered with 
a bell-glass, so as to prevent excessive evaporation. 

Some of the bud bloomers for window gardens and small con¬ 
servatories are Fuchsias, Primula obconia, Tuberous Begonias, 
Pelargoniums, Abutilon, Heliotrope and Geranium of course, Car¬ 
nations, Hyacinths and various roses. None of these are timid, but 
on the contrary will assert themselves vigorously with very little urging. 

A partial knowledge of the characteristics is sufficient to begin 
with, for experience comes with watching each day’s development. 


BEAUTIFUL GATES AJAR,” WASHINGTON PARK, CHICAGO, ILL. 



























































FLOWERS ABOUT THE HOME. 361 

• 

Tuberous Begonias are interesting and beautiful. The variety 
was introduced but a few years ago and many are still ignorant of its 
wonderful merits, but its popularity is steadily increasing among those 
who have given it a trial, and in a short time these Begonias will be 
strong rivals of the Geranium as summer flowers. They are of the 
easiest cultivation, bloom profusely all through the summer season, 
are of the most brilliant and beautiful colors, and no flower, unless, 
perhaps, the Geranium, can do so much to brighten the greenhouse or 
window garden. 

The cultivation of Tuberous Begonia, under glass or in the open 
ground is extremely simple—quite as easy, in fact, as that of the 
Geranium. 

For greenhouse or window cutting start the tubes in pots but 
little larger than themselves, and shift to larger sizes as soon as the 
roots fill the soil. Good plants can be grown in six to eight inch 
pots. A soil composed of loam, leaf-mold and rotten sod, equal 
parts, suits them well. If the loam is not light and sandy, add some 
sharp sand. Drain the pots well and water moderately. After plants 
become somewhat pot-bound, give fertilizer once a week. Do not 
water too much at first. Let the tubers take time to start well, but 
when well started give more water, and use the syringe freely on the 
plants until buds appear. 

Do not try to force the plants, as that makes them weak and 
-leggy." A temperature of about 60 degrees seems to suit them 
best. Shade during the hottest season, using thin muslin under the 
glass. Keep the temperature down by dampening the greenhouse 
floor and walks. 

For outdoor use start the tubers in April in small pots. Do not 
put out in open ground until warm weather comes. During the 
summer months—until frost cuts them down, in fact, they will give an 
immense display of bloom. They are in this respect quite equal to 
Geraniums or Verbenas, and they stand the reverses a^id changes of 
weather quite as well as either of these plants. In fall take up the 
tubers and keep them in a cellar that does not admit frost. Store 
away the same as you would a dahlia and they will come out all right 
in the spring. 

Orchids ! these queens, aristocrats of the floral world. Those 
gorgeous multifarious blooms which seem to have been the last effort 
of nature, upon which she indulges every caprice and fancy, after she 
has orown tired of the set forms of other plants. Nothing else ex- 




ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


362 

hibits the variety of shade and shape, the manner of growing, or the 
habits of constitution, as the orchid. 

Only comparatively recently were these imperial parasites taken 
from their homes upon the far-off branches of tropical trees or where 
they clung to the roots, easy of possession but withering in the thirsty 
grasp which coveted them. 

Their value and beauty has made them the object of such 
thorough study that every well appointed conservatory has its 
orchid house, and here the senses are feasted, and the eye gladdened 
by their beauty. 

The Orchid is, of course, the most expensive flower for cutting, 
but they last excellently, and will still be fresh and lovely after having 
been worn all evening. A whole library might be written upon orchid 
culture, but to the housewife fortunate enough to possess two or three 
varieties, a few strong hints will be sufficient. 

In selecting the plant be careful to choose all your bulbs of the 
same characteristics. That is, all either tropical, sub-tropical, or those 
accustomed to a cooler climate. It is prudent to consult some florist 
closely regarding the degree of heat and moisture required, and get 
the plants of a similar constitution. Next see to your place for put¬ 
ting them. Remember that warmth and moisture are the two first 
requisites for their growth. 

Yet for all that too much damp will speedily prove fatal to the 
capricious beauties. Rot is a dangerous disease for orchids, and is 
frequently caused by water running and dripping over a part of the 
bulb. The parts affected must be cut out with a sharp knife, the 
wound carefully plugged with flowers of sulphur, carefully put on so 
as not to let any get on the rest of the roots. Spot is another orchid 
disease, and makes its appearance over the flowers and leaves; it is 
occasioned from various causes, too much moisture, a cold draught or 
a sudden fall of temperature. In either case the plant must be 
repotted, the sand and loam carefully shaken free from all damp, the 
plant allowed to hang for several hours thirsty, then water sparsely 
for a day, after which wipe or cut out the “ spots ” and apply small 
quantities of sulphur on the parts affected, so as to prevent the trouble 
from spreading. 

Vermin is a deadly enemy to the orchid, especially the cock¬ 
roach, red ant, wood louse and the little slug. Only constant watch¬ 
ing will eradicate this difficulty, as the insects will live in the loam 
among the roots. Cut potatoes in halves, hollow them out and spread 


FLOWERS ABOUT THE HOME. 


them around the plants, turn all lights out for a time and the roaches 
will come out to eat; in this way large numbers may be trapped. 
Half apples will prove a snare for the red ant, while poison for insects 
will destroy the others. The wood louse is particularly hungry for 
the young shoots and bulbs, and will get upon the orchid unless the 
greatest watching is practised. They will even drop from the roof 
above, to fall upon the blooms. 

Keep the leaves and flowers well sprayed, and free from all dust 
and impurities, the air clear and clean and wholesome, suffering fresh 
heated air to circulate freely, manage the light so that at no time does 
the sun fall warmly upon them, and you will find you have a 
priceless treasure in each bloom. They will be found not so delicate 
as supposed, and will yield “an hundred fold” in no time at all. 

Of course, orchids are expensive, but two of these artistic 
beauties will lend a grace and tone to a whole conservatory, and with 
care can be propagated with great success. 

There is always a peculiar charm about pendant flowers. Most 
growers of flowers have more of a friendship for the Fuchsia than they 
have for other flowers with equal or greater claims to beauty, but 
possessing less grace. In some way we seem, says Rexford, to 
associate the idea of modesty with a drooping flower. The Abutilon 
is one of the best of our drooping flowers, and it is universally 
popular among cultivators of plants in the greenhouse and window be¬ 
cause of its freedom and constancy of bloom, and ease of manage¬ 
ment. It has another great merit also—its exemption from the 
attacks of insects which infest other plants. 

Then too, comes before my mind a countless variety of every kind 
of blooming flower. Flowers noted for their beauty of tint and 
odor, flowers gorgeous and flowers pale, until in a very ecstacy of joy 
I would fain embrace the universe to bury my face in the lap of nature 
to drowse all sensibilities in a tranced delirium of bliss. 


BEAUTY, HOW TO ACQUIRE AND HOW TO PRESERVE IT. 


To be well is to be beautiful. Not alone to have the faculties in 
good working order, but to be in every particular in what mjy be 
termed, a normal condition. 

As a general thing beauty thought, spoken or written of, brings 
the feminine portion before the mind’s eye, yet not now, nor at any 
time have men been devoid of a very praiseworthy ambition to excel 
their fellow creatures in physical perfection. 

And what is grander than a superbly fashioned man? In this 
day when deeds of daring are not what marks a man, perhaps more 
than ever before is the physical man noted for the possession or 
lack of these very perfections. 

Yet the very man who would scorn to take note of his physical 
self in the light of vain admiration will admire—nay, even worship 
most the sweetest, ripest development of the numerous lines of beauty 
in a woman. 

Our physical natures are the fruit of the great master thought of 
our Maker, for directly as is the body enjoying its most perfect and 
healthful development, so the mental and intellectual faculties enjoy 
their highest activity. 

And beauty, potent beauty, that “ leads us by a single hair,” it 
finds its worshipers in every clime, in every station in life. Wit, intel¬ 
lect, Pleasure, even Justice kneel before her, rapt, spell-bound, feed¬ 
ing the senses, and swaying the whole soul in the very ecstacy of con¬ 
templation ; yet, to hold the first attraction beauty must be perfect in 
every part. 

What satisfaction is there in possessing the most Juno-like form, 
the finest eyes and most dazzling teeth if the complexion is marred 
by pimples, dull, blotched or faded ? 

364 




BEAUTY. 


365 


And again, if the woman in repose was an idyllic dream of loveli¬ 
ness until disturbed and was found to walk with an uncertain, slouch¬ 
ing or vulgar gait, or like the ass in the lion’s skin to betray herself 
with the first word she uttered, shattering all illusions by a harsh, me¬ 
tallic, unsympathetic voice, in either case, would not the one fascinated 
by the first vision turn away sick at heart and inexpressibly disgusted. 

So to be beautiful, aye, more than beautiful, lovely and lovable, 
the woman must be something of an angel, much of the human, and 
just a spice of the devil. 

What is a beautiful woman? How shall we fix a standard by which 
she shall be known ? So simply asked, so hard to answer. No rule 
can be laid down, but you will know her when you see her, as she 
approaches in her elegant, characteristic fashion you will involuntarily 
extend your hand when she speaks, in very rapture you will kiss the 
hand you hold, provided of course, that she is courtly enough to 
correctly understand the homage. 

Yes, you are sure to know her, whether she be short or tall, finely 
moulded, or fragile as a wood nymph. Whether she possess the dusky 
fire of the South or merry blue glitter of the North in her eye, the 
sweet, full sensitive lips which whisper of love, or the Cupid’s bow 
line of scarlet which receives homage, and gives the matchless cordial 
of serene, deep-seated bliss and chastity. You know it in the cool, 
soft hand which, as Juliet puts it, “ palm to palm ” greets you; there is 
a certain something in the way a woman takes or offers a hand which 
tells the inmost heart what she might be to you, sweetheart, confidant, 
counselor, mistress or wife. 

But in all this, there is one inflexible, invariable rule—Beauty is 
always neat. It sounds odd to say so, but enduring charms are very 
substantial after all, and although poets may rave of the untied shoe, 
or wind-blown hair, active, earnest people will scoff at the first indica¬ 
tion of a lack of care of the person or toilette. 

The teeth, the nails, the skin ( the hair, bear evidence of constant 
care, living as we do in busy, bustling cities, where smoke and dust 
are substituted for Italian skies and Acadian verdure, real, solid cleanli¬ 
ness is above par straight through the race. 

Most women would be indignant if told they had dirty faces, yet 
such is very, very frequently the case, and the protection of the skin is, 
and should be, one of the highest of a woman’s cares. Upon its per¬ 
fect health depends the comfort and appearance of the individual, and 
a few hints may be very proper just here. 


/ 



ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


366 

* L. Duncan Bulkley, M. D., an indisputable authority on skin says, 
“ Bearing in mind the many, many thousand pores of the sweat and 
sebaceous glands, and remembering how the epidermal layer is con¬ 
stantly shed, it can be readily understood, that to have a healthy skin 
we must have a clean one.” Later on, speaking of baths he says, “ I 
must take a little exception to the onslaught made upon the morning 
bath, for, if quickly and vigorously taken, and if a good reaction be 
obtained after it, it is conducive to the restoration and maintenance 
of health, though many cannot bear it, and there is great danger of 
its being overdone.” 

The Turkish bath is wrongfully considered to be a great expeller 
of all skin disorders. This is a point to be severely contested. The 
dangers of the bath result almost always from not carrying out all the 
directions indicated by experience in regard to its use ; that is the 
danger in becoming too rapidly heated, or, in not allowing a sufficient 
cooling time, or in taking the bath too soon after or before eating, 
etc., etc. A weakened heart or a tendency to apoplexy, also are 
sources of danger. But as a means of removing the external debris 
of the skin, the Turkish bath stands unequaled, and as an occasional 
stimulant and quickener of the vital processes, it is certainly of great 
value, but in taking it, one must be guided by the sensations produced 
at each step, and by the advice of those experienced in the charge of the 
establishment rather than by that of some friend who has stood this 
or that temperature, and has remained for such and such a time 
in it. 

The care of the skin on the face, is, of course, paramount for a 
woman, and the question of powder is immediately brought forth. 
The best application for the purpose of removing greasiness of the 
skin is pure rice powder. Do not buy it in packages, but the freshly 
prepared and perfectly pure article by weight. Or, if a 
substance more absorbing to the grease matter is desired, a little 
calcined magnesia may be used. “Friction, cautiously applied to the 
face daily, will do much to keep the pores of the sebaceous glands 
open, and, by stimulating the face, prevent the formation of the black 
specks so common in young people. I generally direct that the face 
be rubbed to a degree short of discomfort, and that the towel be not 
too rough.’’ 

There is a growing distaste for soap for the face. This is 
ridiculous and foolish. Mild soap briskly rubbed upon the surface of 
the face is the best known agent for destroying fatty secretions. It 


BEAUTY. 


367 


is especially beneficial if the hands instead of the wash rag is used 
for rubbing the surface thoroughly. Rinsing is vital,and should be done 
in hot water until every trace of the soap is washed off, then another 
face bath of water perceptibly cooler, another and another, until the 
bather is thoroughly glowing with the cold spray splashed deliciously 
over the face, throat, bosom and arms. 

Creams and fatty substances are to be avoided except after ex¬ 
posure to severe cold or high, dusty wind. Oils upon the lips are, 
however, inclined to promote their softness and render them smooth 
and of good color. One accustomed to oily lotions will experience 
some annoyance at first in resigning her beloved scented cream, but 
after a few days she will feel how much more freely the muscles of the 
face will act when left to work out their own relaxation, independent of 
the external oiling. Glutinous substances are vastly preferable, 
as they soften the external skin, act as a mild alkali for 
removing grease and dirt, and besides possess healing and curative 
properties. A thin part of strained oatmeal gruel applied to the 
face, allowed to dry and remain over night will prove quite disagree¬ 
able for a time, but in the morning, after being removed by a tepid 
sponging, followed by a cold dash, the greatest relaxation and relief 
are felt, and the skin will feel smooth and soft as a infant. 

Pimples are a most annoying disfigurement, and are frequently 
caused by the inactivity of the several minute ducts under 
the epidermis. A simple wash of considerable service, and one 
quite harmless, may be made with a drachm of precipitated sulphur, 
a drachm of tincture of camphor, a drachm of glycerine and four 
ounces of rose water. 

Blackheads are another, in fact, a twin evil for the face. They 
should be pinched out, if this can be done without irritating the 
skin. Dandruff (seboerrhoea) is another skin disorder and a source 
of great annoyance. Brushing is not always beneficial, nor is comb¬ 
ing unduly; the better plan for removing it is to apply an ointment 
after a o-entle brushing. It should be rubbed thoroughly into the 
scalp and not allowed to oil the hair. A good mixture is made of 
castor-oil and alcohol with a little spirits of rosemary. 

But most women are not satisfied with healthful, glowing com¬ 
plexions; they desire that their cheeks should be as smooth as a 
baby’s and downy as a peach, with the hues of bisque or dresden. 
The natural causes are always found to be best, and anything which 
will produce a free, active flow of perspiration will be conceded the 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


368 

best face bleach. One can be cited as exemplary as well as healthful. 
Take a newspaper, fold it and pin it so it will come about the face like 
a deep sunbonnet, except that it continues around under the chin, 
leaving a circular orifice before the face. Over a stove lid, or shovel 
well heated, but not too hot, the fair creature bends so that all the 
heat caught in her paper prison must remain condensed and smite her 
face. Her mouth has been previously filled with white wine or vine¬ 
gar and water, and she, a la Chinese, from time to time squirts a 
portion of the contents upon the heated surface and allows the steam 
to penetrate into the pores of her face. Profuse perspiration will 
follow; while the little prison is still filled with steam, about half a 
teaspoonful of powder of myrrh is sprinkled over the iron, and the 
delicious incense rising, enters the dilated pores and has the effect of 
soothing the surface and of adding a wonderfully fresh and wholesome 
appearance to the face, which, quarter of an hour ago, looked tired 
and lined with care. 

Sensible people are outliving the fear of mercury. It does not 
“remain in the system,” as is ignorantly averred, but, judiciously used, 
proves a most beneficial tonic to the blood, and then directly the 
skin. Iron and quinine in some localities is a necessity. 

Milk baths, hot or tepid, are a great help for the skin. The 
rubber mask worn at night, if not rendered poisonous by insidious 
drugs, are great promoters for natural delicate coloring. 

For pale and sunken cheeks, facial massage is warmly to be 
recommended. You can for a reasonable fee secure an expert for 
this, but, if not, help yourself instead. First draw the lips upward at 
the corners as if about to smile, place the thumbs just below each 
corner, then with the four fingers lightly pressing the inflated cheek, 
draw them downward, forcing the mouth into its natural position, 
quickly repeat the action, then slowly and gently once more and at the 
end of a short time a delightful glow will appear upon either cheek. 
Nor is this transitory; this is genuine, healthful facial massage and 
will in time fill out the cheek and give the, most faded an added 
appearance of youth and health. 

If you i'nsist upon using cosmetics, do so with the greatest pos¬ 
sible care and fail in having too little rather than too much. Powder 
above the upper lip and just below the lower, and the effect will be to 
deepen the color and curve of this feature. The faintest suspicion of 
color in the cheeks will generally add luster and brilliancy to the eye, 
but it is so easily abused into a vulgar appearance of rouging. 


BEAUTY. 


3^9 

Care of the eyebrows is an important task. The natural width 
and curve must determine the care in a large measure of course. The 
writer once, after indulging in a professional face-washing and while 
lying composedly back and submitting to the agreeable process of 
being made beautiful, was serenely pleased with the adroit massage and 
tinting of lip, nostril and cheek, and felt as delightful as though the 
last affectionate pat of the powder-puff had indeed been the downy 
wing of an angel, but when the attendant as a finishing touch drew 
a small brush horizontally across the eyebrows it was time to 
interfere. 

u Don’t you know how to brush an eyebrow?” was the astonished 
query. 

“ Yes, miss,” tersely answered. 

“ Well, I guess I’ll attend to my own,” and the stiff brows were 
brushed straight up, brushed and smoothed so, then directly down so 
that the edge above and beneath showed each hair clearly defined 
upon the white skin, then with a comb I drew horizontal lines across 
the middle, combing carefully until that beautiful, heavy dark line is 
reached, and to my surprise the attendant exclaimed : 

“ I’ve been a professional face-washer for five years, but never 
before did I really understand the brushing of eyebrows.” 

Superfluous hair is an annoyance not easily disposed of; in most 
cases it is better not to tamper with them, for most of the patent 
preparations are highly injurious to the skin. In most cases they con¬ 
sist of a cream or lotion which is allowed to remain on the face for a 
time, and is then removed by hot bathing and the hair can be scraped 
off. Now, the only solution of the effect of this is that the hair is, so 
to speak, cooked by the ingredients and can be thus easily removed, 
but the deeply buried root suffers little from this, and now sends 
forth another shoot of hair, coarser than its predecessor. 

The only permanent cure is by destroying the root, which is 
done by electric needles or other instruments, and are not safe in 
the hands of any but a competent surgeon. 

Almond oil and meal are both good adjuncts for the toilet 
table, the meal is best used just after the bath, as it softens the 
skin before the atmosphere can have the effect of “puckering” 
or making it harsh. A little of the oil rubbed well into the palm, 
then over the cheeks, is a good preventive for chap and frost. 
Although it is to be doubted if better than old-fashioned cam¬ 
phor ice* a mixture of mutton tallow and camphor. 


24 


370 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


If the skin is not healthful, for example, after a change of 
climate it may be necessary to use fatty substances to keep it smooth 
and render it able to withstand the sudden blasts of the new tempera¬ 
ture. A good mixture is made thus: Two tablespoonsful of strained 
calf’s suet, \ the beaten white of an egg, \ oz. of oil of roses, or 
perfume. The liquid suet is poured gradually over the egg, an 
incessant beating being kept up until the whole is thoroughly mixed. 
It is then a deliciously scented, and uninjuriously healing cream which, 
if once tried, will install itself in the boudoir. 

Next to the eyes, the teeth are the most conspicuous feature of 
the face. No praise can overrate their beauty if indeed they are an 
ornament. The size and shape should be in harmony with the other 
features, and it is the duty of mothers to constantly watch the teeth 
of the young children. Consult your dentist frequently; a few 
dollars now will be worth vast sums later on. If there is a tendency 
to crowd he will doubtless extract some now and force the others, 
while the gums are still pliant, and the teeth still growing, and in 
a short time the cavity will have disappeared. In this advanced stage 
of dentistry, wonders can be accomplished which formerly would have 
been deemed miraculous, so no one has any excuse for having a 
mouthful of crooked, irregular, or crowded teeth. 

It seems superfluous to mention the cleanliness of the mouth, 
yet it is very often found that ladies are not sufficiently careful in 
this respect with their ivories. It is really astonishing how many 
retire without brushing the teeth, and thus allow the particles of 
their last meal to remain in the tiny crevices all night. The 
salivary juice of the mouth is healthful for the teeth only as long 
as there are no particles in a state of fermentation clinging to 
them after the first step of decomposition—this sounds dreadful, 
just because it is true—sets in, the saliva, assisted by the heat, 
is a ready accomplice of the destruction of the beautiful pearls, 
and with untiring energy, while we wake or sleep, it plies its secret 
task. 

But to those who possess the natural delicacy and refinement to 
brush and rinse the mouth after each meal, there is still a word of 
caution; caution against all the colored and scented powders, done up 
in attractive boxes, and with fanciful names to catch the eye. A few 
simple receipts are vastly better than all these Frenchy pastes and 
high-sounding terms. 



BEAUTY. 


371 


From a reputable journal on dentistry we have the following 
valuable receipt for powder and a wash: 

TOOTH POWDER. 


Precipated carbonate of lime.4 ounces. 

Pulveriz.d orris root.^ ounces. 

Pulverized white sugar.1 ^4 ounces. 

Pulverized slippery elm bark. %. ounces. 

Pulverized cuttle fish bone.^ ounces. 


Color with carmine, and flavor with oil of wintergreen or rose. 

Persons making the powder for themselves should be provided 
with a mortar and pestle with which to incorporate the ingredients 
and a very fine sieve to rub the powder through when finished. In 
coloring, the carmine and cuttle fish bone are first ground together 


and the other ingredients then added. 

Another powder is made thus: 

Precipitated carbonate of lime.4 ounces. 

Pulverized orris root.2 ounces. 

Prepared oyster shell.2 ounces. 

Color and flavor if desired. 


A good and very simple powder is made by mixing equal parts 
of prepared chalk and powdered orris root and adding a little of the 
scrapings of fine soap. Camphorated chalk is an excellent dentifrice, 
but is so volatile as to require tight boxes. It gives a singularly 
sweet, cool taste to the mouth and whitens the teeth wonderfully. Do 
not use it, however, oftener than once a day as camphor strongly 
used is apt to render the gums too tender. 

For bitter, sweetish or vapid taste in the mouth, a good and 

effective wash is made thus: 

Tincture of krameria.3 fluid ounces. 

Eau de cologne.6 fluid ounces. 

Oil of wintergreen.10 drops. 

Of this mixture add a teaspoonful or two to a wine glass of 

water. 

Dentists advise the running of a white silk thread between the 
teeth daily to remove any particle of food which the most careful 
brushing may have overlooked. Brushes with the bristles cut in 
points are preferable to those with flat surface, as they more readily 
pass between the teeth and more thoroughly scour the unequal sur¬ 
face of the crowns. 

The teeth are generally classed, as regards the method of their 
formation, with such substances as horn, hair and nails, yet the treat¬ 
ment and preservation are very different. 













372 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


Care of the nails is one of the daily occupations of women, and 
truly it is most important, for the hand plays no mean part in the tout 
• ensemble of a beautiful woman. 

The finger nails should be rather thin, of deep flush tint, con¬ 
forming neatly with the outline of the finger tip, and highly 
polished. 

How to obtain this and keep them in such a state is a matter of 
constant care and patient painstaking. Avoid cutting the nails when 
a daily application of the file will answer the purpose as well. Under 
no circumstances scrape or scratch the surface, unless the nail seems 
stubbornly intent upon flattening at the edges and growing from the 
curve along the side, then scrape the middle quite thin and the flesh 
from the side will have a tendency to push the edges inward, and the 
thin center, now elastic, will be gradually pushed upward, and thus, 
after a time, the earnestly desired curve will appear. 

Dry, brittle nails are caused by, and are a symptom of poor 
health, especially of disorders of the blood or nervous system. 

Pulmonary troubles are too,indicated by the curved appearance 
of the finger nails. In this case the nails seem fairly to curl after 
the fashion of an autumn leaf, inward at the end and sides. 
After a sick spell a line or ridge is visible across the nail, the portion 
nearer the root being thin and dry, and telling by its length the dura¬ 
tion of the illness. 

The chamois covered pads are decidedly the best nail polishers. 
Nail powders add to the brilliancy of their polish and are so varied as 
to defy description. A little touch of carmine will heighten the rose 
flush if unfortunately the nail is naturally too thick to reveal the line 
of blood cells beneath. 

In some fingers the flesh seems determined to grow over the nail 
in a tight, homely line. Great care must be taken in keeping it 
pushed back, use only blunt instruments and those with care. The 
most disastrous results follow the tearing or cutting of this skin, as 
thereafter it is less ready than ever to grow as it should. It should 
each day be forced back a trifle from the root and sides, then gently 
kept in place for a time by the nail polisher, after a while it will be 
more elastic and of itself form a pretty curve. 

Trimming the nail persistently will finally cultivate them in one 
particular shape, and then from the bluntest, most club-shaped, one of 
pure pecan shape can be had. 

A fine polisher for the nails is the plump, white meat of the 


I 


BEAUTY. 373 

Brazil or butter nut, which if rubbed over them will impart a high 
polish as well as supply an oil, almost imperceptible, but softening 
and healing in its properties. 

There is so much character in a human hand; for example, one 
smooth and satiny, slender and statuesque in outline, with sensitive 
taper fingers, in spite of all its beauty is generally possessed by a 
woman of cold, calculating, proud disposition, yet sensitive and in¬ 
clined to indulgence of the appetites. 

A broad, blunt hand with the flesh puffing from either side and 
the end of the nailsindicatesa timid, generous disposition, fond of the 
arts, yet undetermined and self-deprecatory. 

For the hand to be loosely knit, large at the joints, flexible and 
deep in the palm with rather broad nails and dry palm, indicates a 
generous, impulsive nature, easily deceived, credulous, and forgiving, 
yet inclined to be fickle and insincere. 

A hot, moist palm is indicative of a feverishly impatient nature, 
hot, rash and impulsive, irrational in affairs of the heart, yet quick in 
powers of discernment and with a keen observation for the brilliant 
and beautiful. 

The most perfect hands to-day are found among the Spanish and 
Irish women, among the latter particularly, even among the peasantry 
the hands of those who till the soil or work in the peat-fields are 
found to be singularly slender and finely moulded, the skin of such a 
fine satin smoothness that even the arduous labor they perform has 
little or no effect upon them. 

French ladies of the last century cultivated beauty in its broadest 
sense; among- them were a number of women notable for nothing 
more than the perfection of their hands. Marie Stuart and Marie 
Antoinette are said to possess hands which challenged the keenest 
criticism. Madam Julie Recamier, the famous beauty, who not only 
dazzled the court of the First empire, but at sixty was still without 
physicial blemish, is said to have possessed a marvelously 
characteristic hand, beautiful as it bespoke the rigid determination 
which marked her life. 

Madam De Stael, although homely in other particulars, was 

always proud and very careful of her hand. 

Musicians generally have short, plump fingers and broad sen¬ 
sitive nails. Artists on the other hand usually have long slender 
hands, terminating in finely curved nails. 

The question of gloves comes naturally when discussing hands, 


374 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


just now the good taste of the world of fashion has run riot once 
more, and the hands are incased in gloves of every hue and descrip¬ 
tion. This idea is revolting to natural delicacy which desires to avoid 
attracting attention from these members as much by abstaining from 
loud gloves as it would from gaudy rings. The French women have 
always set us an example of extreme neatness in shoes and gloves, 
without which the most perfect costume is out of harmony. 

Dear women, if you prize some hold upon the affection of those 
beloved by you, cultivate the touch of your hand. Cultivate a correct 
pressure in taking the hand of another. In the way you adjust the 
minutest trifle of the apparel, you cannot imagine the mesmeric power 
you can hold over the senses. The woman who lives by her charms 
knows this so well. The gentle, thoroughly womanly touch is the one 
which will sway the senses, cool the heated brow and drive away 
sorrow, harrowing care and knotty perplexity. 

In taking another hand, grasp it firmly, cordially, heartily. You 
know yourself how a shudder runs through your whole being as some¬ 
one barely strokes, or perhaps limply offers you a hand, and again 
how like a beam of light in darkness, the fainting soul is stirred and 
cheered by a warm, earnest grasp. 

The wrist, if pretty, is something of which to be proud, and it 
requires but little energy to have it round and firm. Take a small 
rubber ball and for an interval of about fifteen minutes press and 
relax it in the palm of the hand. You can easily see the working of 
the muscles in so doing, and after a time this healthful exercise will 
bear its fruit with flattering results. 

“ A woman’s beauty is in her hair,” so runs the old proverb, and 
truly enough, how many, otherwise plain or even homely, are redeemed 
by a showering wealth of rippling hair. Men universally admire a 
fine head of hair and have contempt for the close shorn locks, tor¬ 
tured and frizzed into the most barbarous tangle of singed coiffure. 
A woman need not twist her hair tightly or unbecomingly to have it 
artistically dressed, but neither need she yield to the absurd prevail¬ 
ing fashion of ruining one of her most glorious charms, simply be¬ 
cause Bessie Gray or Nina Lee does so. 

Beauty does not necessarily consist in the length of hair, 
although a woman is naturally proud of long, heavy hair; it is 
the texture and quality, the amount of natural ripple, the tint and 
shade, the manner in which it catches or absorbs the sunshine 
which makes this crowning glory her crown indeed. 


BEAUTY. 


375 


It is strange that fashion should decide which color of hair 
shall take the lead, but such is indeed the case. Twenty-five years 
ago dark hair was the theme for poets and painters, then the 
society woman insanely conceived the idea of bleaching and frizzing 
her hair. 

There is no doubt that fair hair is eminently becoming to 
many women; that it harmonizes better with many toilets than dull- 
hued locks with little to recommend their shade, but the risk a woman 
runs in adopting such a course is great. In the first place it is 
almost impossible after the first set of applications of the fluids 
employed to prevent the ends becoming much lighter than the roots, 
thus producing a bad effect and clearly demonstrating the fact of the 
bleaching. These ends must be constantly trimmed off to avoid this 
difference of color, so in time the once long braids are greatly 
reduced, besides, these washes and bleaches have a tendency to render 
the hair excessively dry, the result is that it breaks and splits, and 
is harsh to the touch. Any natural inclination to curl is destroyed, 
artificial means must be resorted to, and this stretching and twisting 
of the already weakened fibres finishes the work of destruction, and 
the pretty brown hair we used to admire foritsgloss and quality now 
comes before us striped, crackling, bushy and blase in appearance. 

So, on the whole, do not fly in the face of nature, but bring 
the natural forces to bear upon the imperfect features. These 
remedies will prove to have a lasting effect, strengthening and culti¬ 
vating it to the highest degree possible. 

Trimming the hair, that is, cutting off the ends which seem dry 
and split, is a first duty, if neglected, the dead hair tangles easily, thus 
endangering that which is strong and breaking into the fine soft coils 
where it should never intrude. 

Singeing is better than trimming, as the flame passes rapidly from 
tip to tip and cauterizes the end of each hair. The best way is to 
light a candle and pass it along the ends of a bunch of hair with a 
comb, hastily whipping out the flame as it trespasses too far. The 
ends of singed hair are always rather stubby at first, but this is in its 
favor, as it thus seals the hair tube and confines the oil which passes 
down its entire length and lubricates the hair. In a few days this 
little protector wears off and the hair is much softer and glossier 
than heretofore. 

Brushing the hair, as every one knows, is its best and greatest 
salvation. Shake it free from all confinement and part it down the 


376 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


middle and brush it so at least once every day; comb it too in this 
position both with a coarse and fine comb, careful in using the latter 
not to scratch or irritate the scalp. If one would only take the time 
to do this regularly the most beneficial results would soon become 
apparent. 

The scalp is subject to the same ills which befall the skin of the 
face, but it is more difficult to treat it because of the hair. Dandruff 
is the most common disorder of the scalp and is due to various 
reasons. Combing and brushing are of little use in its removal, except 
to leave the skin freer to act. Ointments are necessary to keep the 
scalp in free activity. Rub it carefully and firmly so it does not grease 
the hair. For removing dandruff, a mixture of the following will 
prove effective: One part of salts of tartar to four parts of bay rum, 
dissolved in fifty parts of water. Of course, the mixing is better 
done by a druggist. 

A good hair tonic is made of a mixture of ammonia one part, 
to five parts of glycerine, five parts of rum and distributed in one 
hundred parts of water. 

In these it will be seen that the properties of both are of a 
highly cleansing order, with water enough to dispel their too 
powerful heating, as is always the case of alcoholic or other spirits. 

The hair, like all other parts of the body, must be kept clean 
to attain its highest perfection. It must be thoroughly washed and 
rinsed in water rather warm and dried as much by fanning and 
shaking as possible, as rubbing it with towels is apt to break and 
tangle it. The hot sunshine is the best external agent, and hair 
dried so will be more fluffy than by artificial heat. 

If the hair is of a faded, neutral tint, sage tea is a good wash, 
as it softens and strengthens as well as darkens its color. To 
thoroughly cleanse the hair which has a pre-disposition to be oily 
some alkali must be used. Salts of tartar is excellent if employed 
sparingly and then thoroughly rinsed, as if left, it will curl and dry 
it, or worse, make it bleached in stripes. Alcohol and whiskey are 
both good agents for preventing cold after washing; bay rum will 
answer much the same purpose. 

Crimping the hair is not injurious unless forced by heated irons.* 
Frizzing it on curlers is, of course, injurious if carried to such an 
extent as to dry or stain the roots. 

The beaten white of an egg is a well known agent for softening 
the hair when used instead of soap. 


BEAUTY. 


377 


Providing every care in the world is taken of the skin, teeth, 
hair and eyes, all these are submerged if the poise of the head, the 
posture when sitting, or the carriage when walking are not elegant and 
correct; and in being graceful, many a woman realizes that she has 
an advantage over others far more beautiful than herself. To obtain 
this charming acquisition, unless it is a natural gift, will require not 
only careful, well-directed exercise of the muscles, whose functions are to 
produce the desired effect, but it is necessary to make a study of the 
movements of those you desire to imitate. 

Tall ladies are, as a general thing, more stately than their 
shorter sisters, but it by no means follows that they need be more 
dignified. Yet if she is slender, the woman who reaches and passes 
five feet five has a happy advantage over those less fortunate. In 
her the poets have found their inspiration, the artists their models; 
yet this same tall woman, if ungraceful, labors at a greater disadvan¬ 
tage than if she were six inches shorter. 

The first thing is to hold the head well, and to do so there are 
some rules it would be well to observe. 

First, carry the head so that the lobes of the ears will fall back of 
the collar bone, this will give your head an erectness without stiffness. 
To appear gracious and interested when being addressed, tilt the head 
slightly from the back of the neck, just ever so little, and elevate the 
chin a trifle. You would be astonished to know that the most 
charming thing about Mrs. B is that she is a good listener, and that, 
too, she always has the appearance of being graciously interested in 
all which is said to her. 

Avoid all appearance of stiffness; never elevate the chin or eye¬ 
brows, as it imparts an idea of supercilious distrust or aggravating 
hauteur. 

If the neck is thin or scraggy, there are numerous ways of help¬ 
ing it. One is, turn the head slowly from right to left, as if upon a 
pivot, with the chin and cheek drawn as low as possible; continue the 
motion as far back as possible, then bring the face back to its natuial, 
or front position, quickly and dextrously. Repeat the movement, this 
time from left to right, the tendons and muscles of the throat and 
neck will be felt to relax wonderfully. After a week a change will be 
perceptible and within a month the actual measurement will have 

increased about an inch. 

To develop the neck, just where it joins the shoulder, no exercise 
is better than to divest yourself of all superfluous clothing, elevate 


37 § 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


the chin slightly and hold the head rigid, while with the arms extended 
in a straight line, palms upward, draw them backward and forward 
until discomfort is felt along the shoulder to the top of the arm. 
Drop the arms loosely, breathe deeply for a few seconds, then repeat 
the movement, palms downward, for a time, changing back to palms 
upward after another interval, and so until reason tells you your 
exercise for the time being is sufficient. 

The upper arm is best developed by bringing the arms backward 
from the shoulder, clapping them behind the back. The body in the 
meantime is held erect, the chin well poised, the eyes fixed upon the 
frieze, near the ceiling. At first it will be found that a few times will 
tire one, but after a time the exercise becomes delicious and one- 
hundred times will not seem too long for this invigorating 
movement. 

Indian clubs are a fine agent for the expansion of the chest, de¬ 
velopment of the arms and strengthening the muscles of the back; 
you should consult some one experienced in such matters as to their 
weight, and as a beginner, govern your exercise with careful judg¬ 
ment. Any manual on such training will tell you how, and how long 
they should be used, and the results are most gratifying. 

If your shoulders are sharp and devoid of flesh, a fine exercise is 
thus obtained. 

Place a chair out of reach of anything where you could hurt 
yourself, grasp each side of the seat firmly by each hand and lower 
yourself until your chest touches the seat, then extend the feet so that 
just the tips of the toes touch the floor. Slowly raise the chest by 
force of the arms, hold yourself suspended so for a few seconds then 
slowly lower yourself; repeat the operation a few times and the 
powerful exertion of the exercise will tell you which muscles are to 
derive the most benefit. 

Ladies with hollow cheeks may, by a natural method, fill them 
out round and plump by the following method, which is philosophical. 

Obtain a piece of rubber from £ to J- of an inch in thickness 
that will extend from one side of the mouth to the other. Insert this 
between the teeth and exercise the masticatory muscles by repeatedly- 
biting upon it. Continue for ten or fifteen minutes and repeat two or 
three times daily. In a few weeks or months an improvement will be 
noted, often quite marked. 

A beautiful bosom is naturally a woman’s pride, and correctly so, 
too, for with a flat, contracted chest no one can expect to enjoy per- 


BEAUTY. 


379 


feet fit in her gown, or to have the appearance of genuine, wholesome 
health, so every means of hardening and developing the muscles 
should be regarded as a sacred duty by the fair sex. 

Cold water applications, massage, careful manipulation, exercise 
which strengthens the chest. Avoidance of lacing are the best 
friends to these organs. And then, too, the position of the body 
when walking, sitting or sleeping has much to do with it. 

Upon arising, bare the body to the waist, if you do not desire to 
take a complete bath, then with a coarse towel rub the breast, chest, 
throat and arms until the skin gives out a bright ruddy glow. 

The effete skin and secretions from perspiration are thus removed, 
and the flesh ready for the cold douche which you will apply 
freely; at first the cold will almost smother the bather but its after 
effects are delightful. Rub the flesh dry, then plunge again, slapping 
the parts sharply with the open palm between free splashes of the 
water. The flesh is perceptibly firmer after each bath, and when you 
have hastily covered yourself with something close and warm to pre¬ 
vent cold, a sense of cleanliness is a reward for the labor, if nothing 
else were offered. 

Olive oil and whiskey well shaken together are an excellent lotion 
for the strengthening of the muscles of the breast, but applied after 
such a bath and rubbed vigorously into the skin with the palm. In 
this operation as much benefit is derived from the massage as from the 
healing oils. Knead the bosom gently, careful not to bruise, but 
deeply and firmly and the results are apparent in less than three 
days. 

Never pad, no matter how undeveloped the figure may be, the 
excessive heat, the compression and undue strain are fatal to the 
natural vitality of the organ; call upon the law of nature, health and 
hygiene rather to assist you, and you will bless the day you tossed 
aside the vulgar and artificial stuff of which you would blush before 
your own sister. 

A free, strong limb is a very desirable portion of the human 
frame, and it will be found that nothing is so friendly and favorable 
for its growth as exercise and correct walking. 

In walking, swing the leg freely from the thigh, holding the knee 
rather rigid, tilt the body slightly forward at the waist line, with the 
head erect, and lithe, bring the whole weight forward upon the ball 
of the foot, relax the limb slightly, bend the knee a trifle, draw the 
frame upward as the next limb is swung forward. English girls are 


ART, SOCIETY AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 


380 

sturdy, healthful walkers, as their clear, rosy complexions and full 
figures testify. Continuous care in walking will soon give a light, 
airy, elegant gait which will become habitual and prove a rare posses¬ 
sion in loveliness. 

To make the movement of the leg more free and graceful, an 
excellent exercise is to stand firmly and rigidly upon one limb, while 
with the other rigid, even to the tips of the toes, you kick, after the 
fashion of the ballet dancers, as high as you can, forward, at the sides, 
and even back. Poising upon the toes, raising the body from the 
heels forward, then backward as slowly as possible will enlarge the 
calves and strengthen the tendons of the ankle. 

Nothing in woman is so charming as a melodious voice. It need 
not be as poets invariably put it, “ sweet and low;” some of the 
most delightful voices are clear and silvery as a babbling brook. Care 
for the voice should begin in childhood when the germs of affectation 
are least likely to creep in. 

One’s natural disposition and delicacy are the best rules to go 
by, and can best gauge the tones and fine modulation, but some few 
rules are invariable. Cultivate a pure, full tone above all else, a 
lingering over cadences is always mesmeric in its power. Sympathy 
is the sweetest charm in the human voice. Mrs. Kendall, Mme. 
Bernhardt, have proven this, for, in the wonderful control and knowl¬ 
edge of the power and strength of their voices lies the secret of their 
hold on the public. 

Nothing so tells the disposition and temperament of a woman as 
her voice. How we shrink and shudder from a high, rasping tone 
full of nervous impatience, or the dull, metallic drone of the selfish, 
moody mother who broods over cares real and imaginary, and regales 
whom she will by recitals of the same. 

On the other hand, how a bright, cheery laugh will hold the ear 
and catch the heart. How it can disarm suspicion, scatter gloom and 
chase off in silvery triumph all cares and anger. 

Over the sick bed, and in the ear growing dim in death, oh, how 
pricelessly precious are the tones of enduring love, bravely battling and 
cheering the sufferer down to the very brink of the grave. 

On the whole, diet—not by that, starvation, but a prudent selec¬ 
tion of the quantity and quality of food best suited to the individual, 
to the time and climate—fine, vigorous exercise, plenty of light and 
air, especially in the sleeping apartments, a careful observance of the 
unvarying laws of health, and the chances are the plainest women 




BEAUTY. 


381 

may be graceful, winsome, charming, the beautiful and graciousness 
and kindliness to her charms, and the whole world might become so 
much better and brighter and happier for the exercise of some care 
bestowed upon these matters daily. 

Here are some rules which read so simply, and are so concise, 
that any woman will find an echo of approval in her own heart. 
They are some means by which she can make herself loved. 

Don’t find fault. 

Don’t contradict people, even if you’re sure you are right. 

Don’t be inquisitive about the affairs of your most intimate 
friend. 

» * 

Don’t underrate anything because you don’t possess it. 

Don’t believe that everybody else in the world is happier 
than you. 

Don’t conclude that you have .never had any opportunities in life. 

Don’t believe all the evil you hear. 

Don’t repeat gossip, even if it does interest a crowd. 

Don’t go untidy on the plea that everybody knows you. 

Don’t be rude to your inferiors in social position. 

Don’t over or under dress. 

Don’t express a positive opinion unless you perfectly understand 
what you are talking about. 

Don’t get in the habit of vulgarizing life by making light of the 
sentiment in it. 

Don’t jeer at anybody’s religious belief. 

Don’t try to be anything else but a gentlewoman—and that 
means a woman who has consideration for the whole world and whose 
life is governed by the golden rule, “ Do unto others as you would be 
done by.” 

Strive to fulfill the injunction of the poet who describes the per¬ 
fection of your sex thus: 

“ A perfect woman nobly planned, 

To warm, to comfort and command, 

Yet with a spirit still and bright, 

With something of an angel light .’ 5 


































































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